A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm
by Rose-Arwen-Padme
Summary: Set about 10 years after ROTS. Vader is commanded by the Emperor to personally oversee the massacre of the Nubians. But what happens when a painfully familiar family the Naberrie’s appear, throwing Vader back into his haunting past?
1. The Command of the Emperor

Summary: About 10 years before ANH, so about 10 years after Anakin's turn to the dark side, Vader suit and all. Vader is commanded by the Emperor to personally oversee the massacre of the Nubians. But what happens when a painfully familiar family, the Naberrie's (with no Padmé) appear suddenly, throwing Vader back into his haunting past? What will Vader do?

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

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**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**The Command of the Emperor**

His knees ached from kneeling for so long on the holo-transmission platform of the _Executor_. Even cybernetic limbs couldn't last comfortably in this position of servitude for a long period of time. Yet he ignored the pain in his mechanical extensions as his eyes widened in surprise behind his dark mask.

"Personally?"

"Yes," the Emperor replied, staring hard at his apprentice over the live video link. "I want you to oversee it… personally." He sneered, "I don't want you to hide in your ship in the planet's atmosphere."

Darth Vader clenched his gloves firsts, hatred and anger cursing through what was left of his veins. "Master, I assure you, I have no reason to hide from _any_ planet _any_where."

"This wipeout of a planet that held such an emotional meaning to you will be a fitting way to punish you for your failure on Alderaan."

Vader's rage intensified tenfold. He knew that it wasn't his fault that the recent inspections on Alderaan had not been as in-depth as his master and he had wanted. That trickster Bail Organa had used loop holes in the law that even Vader hadn't known about to restrict the Empire's avid interest in the planet. Both of the Dark Lords were sure that there was some involvement of the rebel alliance with Alderaan, but even they could not go to the large scale drastic measures that they wanted to use without Senatorial permission. They were left to use undercover spies and small scale, off the record assaults to achieve what little information they had gathered. It was no matter, though. Lord Sidious had informed his apprentice of his plans to rid the galaxy of the Senate once and for all. It would just take time. Too much time for Vader's liking, but he had learned the hard way to not argue with his master. Besides, he still hated politics—he always had, and always would.

"There is no such emotional meaning to me, Master. Naboo is simply a planet that did not heed the power and warning of the Empire, and so must be dealt with."

"Oh, I'm quite sure it will be enough to destroy whatever traces of Skywalker have lingered in you over the past ten years."

"There are no traces left of him to destroy."

The twist grin on Sidious's face disappeared, leaving behind only a look of malevolence. "You will stop arguing with me _now_, Lord Vader. It would be wise, my friend."

"I am under your command, My Master."

The dark smile returned to the elder being's pale, wrinkled face. "I know." He slumped back in his black throne, the one which he had issued such terrifyingly powerful orders from, with an air for his apprentice to carry on with business.

"Very well," Vader replied, forcing himself to sound calm. "I will oversee the capture and storage of the Nubians personally." The words came out monotonous, a large contrast to what he was truly feeling. "Where would you prefer me to start, My Lord?" He had a pretty good idea of where.

The emperor had the twisted humor to pretend to think for a few moments before replying.

"Theed."

Vader managed to swallow. He had some how been able to forget the name of the beautiful capital city of Naboo. Just hearing the appellation of the city, even from the lips of a man so wicked, flooded a well of memories he did not like remembering. They came to the surface in an icy, drenching wave. However, Lord Vader had spent a considerable amount of time over the past ten years learning how to hide his emotions from his master. He evoked that skill now.

"Yes, My Master."

The emperor seemed to shrug his shoulders under all the dark robes he wore. What could be seen of his face from under his hood appeared to look thoughtful, a rare look for the small, menacing man.

"The Nubians," he mused, "such kind people. Such kind people who helped bring me to ultimate power, if you remember." He smiled threateningly as he watched Vader tense. Darth Vader did not like to remember, obviously. Emperor Palpatine drove the knife in a little harder. "Noooo, noooo. That was _you_, wasn't it, Lord Vader? You brought me to power."

"I followed my master's instructions," Darth Vader replied briskly, not liking where this conversation was suddenly going.

"Oh, now what master might that have been?" The man on the screen did not bother to hide his wicked smile.

Lord Vader stood tall-- well, as much as he could while kneeling-- refusing to let the Emperor affect him. "The _only_ master Darth Vader has ever had."

The emperor sunk back more into his grand, black chair, the Coruscant skyline behind him. "Very good answer, Vader. Good boy."

Vader clenched his fists tighter than ever. He was being treated like a dog. The Sith Lord didn't like it.

"The capture of Nubians, My Lord?" Even he heard the obviously forced calmness in his voice this time.

But Emperor Palpatine continued as if he hadn't heard him. "But… if it wasn't you who brought me to power… and if it wasn't the Nubians… then, now let me think back much farther in time… it must have been a certain young woman."

"The capture, My Lord!"

He seemed not to listen and sat up a little. "Let me see now… a young, naïve queen… let me place her name…"

"_The capture on Naboo, My Lord!_"

The Emperor, who had been looking off into space, turned and stared directly at Lord Vader.

"Perhaps you know the name of the last senator of the Republic from Naboo." He was taunting him, seeing how much anger and frustration he could create in his dark apprentice.

It was a game his master had played before, but never, _never _on this subject, or anything close to it. The round-a-bout mentions of… his former Jedi master had occurred more than once, but never about… _her_.

Needing to escape from those dangerous thoughts, Vader looked right back at his master, letting the anger and fury fuel his rage, erasing the thoughts from his mind that he did not want his master to read.

"No, My Lord, I cannot. All I know on the subject is that you needed to be in power, and you were brought into it. The galaxy needed you to bring peace when the Republic was being ripped apart, and you fulfilled the duty. The New Order has thrived under your leadership."

The Emperor seemed satisfied with his answer, and reclined in his chair once more. He even smiled… if you could call that a smile.

After a moment, his face returned to the usual dull, talking-about-business-now look. "Take care of the most important citizens first. Work your way down. I want everyone sorted into camps—even the lowest peasants." His snickered returned with a faint 'smile'. "Such kind people, the Nubians…. such kind people…" His lightface slowly turned to stone. His yellow eyes were hard and piercing. "Slaughter them."

"My Lord?"

"Yes, I changed my mind. I don't want the important ones in camp. No—" hepaused again, "put all the politically important ones in camps… for now. I'll deal with them later." His eyes, if possible, appeared even more dangerous. He continued, "Anyone outside the political circle," he waved his hand carelessly, "kill them."

"Perhaps it would be better if we limited our annihilations of the people of the planet." It was Darth Vader talking, no one else. "My Lord, once the rest of the galaxy hears that Your Highness wiped out almost the entire population of a peaceful, rich planet, the number of fools within the Rebellion may increase," he finished.

"You mean, once the galaxy hears who _you _wiped out, Lord Vader."

"My Lord—"

"SILENCE!" The Emperor had a frustrated, angry look on his face. Even through all the billons miles of space in between them, he could feel that his apprentice was also speaking with only business in mind. "The Rebellion is nothing more than a nuisance! They will be crushed!" To add to his heated short speech he slammed his clenched fist on his armchair. Then he paused, breathing heavily. "But… I don't need this nuisance to grow by even one number, no matter if this idiotic resistance will be destroyed within the very near future. Lord Vader," he cleared his throat, a disgusting sound, "you will only put half of the non-politically involved population to death. Split all major cities in two. Half will life, half will die. Those involved in the political circle are to be put into camps. Those living in the isolated country areas may... _live_." He finished his words gruffly, almost reluctantly, his low voice trembling.

"As you wish, My Lord." Vader bowed deeply to his master on the video screen. "Is there anything more, My Master?"

The Emperor's yellow eyes seemed to dart briefly, as he thought if there was anything else he could command of his servant. Eventually, his eyes narrowed on the view screen into dangerous slits.

"Do not fail me again, Lord Vader."

Vader bowed again, and the connection was broken.

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TBC….. 


	2. Swirling Emotions

﻿ Thank you so much for all of the reviews! All of them have been a joy to receive!

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**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Swirling Emotions**

He had forgotten how green everything was—or how blue. The baby blue of the sky, the sapphire blue of the oceans. He had forgotten how the waterfalls fell in such terrible fury, yet their power never veered from their path; the gravitational pull was too strong. He had had an anchor like that too, long ago, something to keep his fury from consuming everything around him. However, that pull, instead of being a geographic force from the center of a planet, had been of chocolate locks of hair, red lips, and two brown pools that he had spent mornings, evenings, and nights drowning in…

Darth Vader clenched his mechanical hand into a fist and brought it crashing down upon the transport's counter top, leaving a dent that no one would ever care to fix.

_Damn!_ He had known that revisiting Naboo would bring up memories of that weaklings life, the life that he used to call his own, yet he had still set a goal of trying keep his head clear. But as soon as the transport ship he was on from the _Executor _had emerged past Naboo's white clouds, and he had caught his first sight of the planet in ten years, his head had been anything but clear. _Things change, _Darth Vader thought reluctantly, and furiously, to himself. _Especially when they are taken from you._

Of course, in reality the planet had diminished some in ten years, the tight-grip of Emperor Palpatine having choked some of its beauty, but Vader stood nevertheless in awe of the glamour before him. At that moment, a rare one, he was glad he was wearing a mask. He became angry just at the thought of what the other main commands around him might think if they saw his eyes, which no doubt were wide in wonder. If Vader _had_ looked around, he would have seen that the others weren't paying attention to anything, not even him—all of their eyes were transfixed on the lush planet emerging quickly in front of them.

Vader commanded himself to get a tight grip on his dangerous emotions. Darth Vader, Sith Lord, did not stand in awe of something. He destroyed it. He did allow the painful memories, and no other, to intrude into his mind. The recollections of the last time he had been on Naboo hounded him. He concentrated on one memory in particular.

_---FLASHBACK---_

"Where is she!"

"Please—"

"I won't ask you again, Bibble." He tightened his mental, but still physical hold on the old man's neck, his fingers idly by his side. Then, they had still been of flesh, blood, and bone, as had the rest of him, except his right arm.

"Senator Amidala is not here!" Sio Bibble croaked, gasping for breath. "I swear!"

The hooded figure snickered evilly. "I don't believe you." He growled, "My patience is almost out."

Sio Bibble looked at the tall figure, trembling with fright. Despite the man's words, he felt the grasp on his windpipe lessen a little. This… _man_… was desperate, absolutely frantic to know where Amidala was. He tried looking under the black hood, wondering what person so evil could want with such a peaceful young woman. _Thank the gods the Senator wasable to escape the clutches of this madman._

"AHH!" Anakin exclaimed angrily. "You _do_ know where the senator is!"

Frightened now more than ever, Sio Bibble realized the cloaked figure had read his mind. After little thought, the realization struck him, and a freezing shiver spread through his body.

"Y-you're a Sith." It was a statement, not a question.

Anakin nodded his head slowly. "Very good, Bibble. Yes, you Nubians have had enough experience with the Sith, haven't you?" He stepped closer, making the old man tremble with terror even more, and this time Anakin replaced the Force with his own left hand around Sio Bibble's neck. "But look around." He paused for several moments, as if waiting for something. "LOOK AROUND!"

Not wasting a moment's breath, Sio Bibble looked around frantically, not sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

"Yes," Anakin hissed, enjoying the panic radiating off the man. "There are no Jedi Knights here to protect you from the Sith. No…" he paused, his face boiling up into a mask of pure hatred underneath the black hood. "No _Obi-Wan Kenobi_ here to save you. But don't worry… I'll find him soon enough. I have some issues to settle with the liar."

Obi Wan Kenobi had come to be honored as one of the most esteemed heroes of Naboo after the Trade Federation battle. His defeat of the Sith lord had earned him prized Nubian titles, monuments, and even some songs composed in his honor. With all the dignity he could muster, with all the bravery still locked somewhere unknown inside his racing heart, noble Sio Bibble, royal advisor, drew himself up and looked at the hood (he guessed where the eyes were) and said defiantly, "Obi-Wan Kenobi was one of the greatest beings I have ever met. You couldn't even dream of being half the man he ever was. I almost pity you. Almost."

Sio Bibble never felt his skull crack open as it impacted the stone pillar thirty feet away. He didn't feel his body ricochet off the pillar with tremendous speed and lay in a heap of limbs on the floor. Although he did hear the blood-curling yell of absolute rage echo in his ears as he sailed across the room, his neck had broken before he was railed into the column.

Anakin clenched his fists in fury once again and a growl of anger escaped his throat. He had meant for the old man to feel the crush of his own skull, but his vehemence had caused him to kill the nobleman before he had reached the intended destination of death.

The last time he had seen his wife had been on her veranda the night he'd stormed into the Jedi Temple. They'd met, embraced, kissed, and he'd tried to soothe her worries with his new assignment on a planet "far away" that would end the war. That was the last time he'd seen her. The assignment on Mustafar had gone well to his master's liking, but when he returned to the capital planet, he'd discovered that Padmé had been taken from him. Video records from her apartment show that Jedi Obi Wan Kenobi came to speak to his wife one afternoon, but, by the looks of things, the conversation was short, tense, and Kenobi didn't get whatever want he'd wanted by the time of his departure. Later video records showed Kenobi and another tall figure sneaking in during the night and taking his pregnant, defenseless wife. She'd put up a struggle as much as she could, but her motherly burden had limited her in her fight.

Anakin grabbed the nearest person of importance he saw out of the lineup of six other people who possibly knew **_her_** location. He had already slaughtered Queen Apailana, Captain Typho, Captain Panaka, and now Sio Bibble. He faintly wondered if this blonde handmaiden, who couldn't have been older than fifteen years of age, would meet similar fates as he pulled her in front of him.

_"WHERE IS PADME!" _he bellowed. He had lied to Sio Bibble. His patience had been spent back at Queen Apailana's soft "no".

He watched the young girl, dressed in blue handmaiden's garb, take a brief look at the four dead bodies around her. By the endless fear on her face it was evident that she did not wish to join them. _Good,_ he thought. _Maybe I will finally know where she is after all._ The young one had been no more than two years-old when Queen Amidala had faced the Trade Federation; therefore, the emotional bond to the event was not as strong as it was to her elders, however much she admired the esteemed Amidala. To her, it was a historical event—she didn't have the emotional attachment of actually living through the terror like others did.

"I-I-I know where Se-Senator Ami-idala is," the young handmaiden stuttered, her intense fear causing her to stumble over her words.

An older female member down the line, once silent, stepped forward despairingly. "No Yomané! Don't tell him! Don't!"

With a flick of Anakin's wrist, the other handmaiden's neck was broken. Her dead body crumpled to the ground, her eyes still wide with urgency.

"Now… where is the senator?" Anakin asked, his voice full of an eerie dead calm.

"She's not in Theed."

"That's obvious, girl. I am short on time." Anakin, believing this girl did in fact know of Padmé's situation, jumped ahead a few questions. "And the child?"

The girl looked at him differently, her amazement temporarily blanketing her fear.

"SHE WAS WITH CHILD!" Anakin shouted, annoyed by how much time this was taking. By now Padmé would be more than eight months along. In his day and evening nightmares he dreamt she was in labor right then, as he desperately searched to find her, to be with her when she gave birth to their child—to ensure that she lived past childbirth. Each moment that passed tore at his soul.

The handmaiden bowed her head. She murmured something that Anakin was not able to pick up.

"What? WHAT DID YOU SAY!"

Yomané swallowed. "Stillborn."

The young man could have sworn that his breaking heart skipped several beats. Anakin struggled to breath. He was sure he had not heard her right. He stood there for several minutes, unwilling to believe.

There was no anger, no hatred, and no trace of any malice in his quiet voice. "St…stilborn? Is that what you said, Yomané?" This was not the voice of a Sith Lord. It was the trembling voice of a broken-hearted father, only beginning to mourn the loss of his first child. It was a voice of a man who only wanted to wrap his arms around his loving wife, to be her companion and for her to be his companion through their mutual grief. He needed Padmé, now more than ever. "Yomané?"

Yomané lifted her head. The black hood had moved, and she looked into two miserable, heartbreaking blue eyes, eyes that only she could see from her angle, and eyes that she had never seen before. His soft whisper of her name dissipated some of her fears. It was a voice that had joked with its Jedi Master, bragged about pod-racing, and stolen the heart of an angelic woman. She could not refuse it.

"Yes," she replied meekly. "Yes, sir. The poor child was stillborn."

Anakin let out a shaky breath. He _would not_ cry in front of these people. "And the mother?" he asked hesitantly, trying to swallow down his building fear.

The entire room was silent, waiting for Yomané's response. "Overcome with grief—" Anakin let out another shaky breath that sounded like a sudden sob—"No one could console her. She wept constantly, for the baby… and for the father. She moaned that she had lost both."

Anakin closed his eyes while crystal tears ran down his cheeks. More and more of him was dying with every word. "And... what has she said of the father?"

Yomané bowed her head. "She would not tell a soul. She carried the secret with her to the very end."

Anakin stood there for a moment, his emotions swirling inside of—**wait**. He stood stock-still. He dared not breathe.

"Say that again."

Obediently, Yomané repeated, "She wouldn't tell a soul. We tried, but she wouldn't say who the fath—"

He gasped, "No!" _Oh, no, Padmé, **please**…_ "…the last part," he whispered, the words barely audible. He wanted to shut his eyes, shut his ears, shut his very soul. But Anakin knew that if he shut his eyes he wouldn't believe what his ears would hear, and he could not shut away his bleeding soul. He forced himself to watch the words that cut his heart like nothing, not even his mother dying in his arms, ever had.

"Senator Amidala died. They say the cause was of extreme sleep deprivation and lack of nutrition. She didn't bother to take care of herself. But the truth is… in the end she died of a broken heart."

Yomané could have been forgiven. Anakin, after several silent moments, would have let the words pass, seeing as how he knew this girl had no idea she was talking to the husband of Padmé Amidala Skywalker. Anakin wouldn't have punished her for her words thatshattered his heart.

But Anakin Skywalker died the moment Yomané's words died on her lips.

He started breathing hard, panting really. He wasn't coherent enough to know whether or not he was speaking his thoughts aloud,_ If my Padmé can't be alive to breathe and be happy, no one else deserves to! If our child can't be alive to laugh and play, no child shall!_ But then he was unable to even form a single thought that made sense and his mind and heart bled into nothing more than a swirling cauldron of the Dark Side. Then the room was spinning, then the five other people in the room, excluding the dead ones, they had been screaming in terror and pain, and he had…

_---END OF FLASHBACK---_

Oh, yes. That memory had done the trick well. Now, as Darth Vader looked upon Naboo as his transport ship landed on one of Theed palace's open hangars, he did not look upon it in awe, in wonder, or in pride in knowing he had once been able to call this beautiful planet his home.

Darth Vader knew no such thoughts.

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TBC………. 

**Leif of Rohan -** Yay! My first reviewer! Thank you for taking the time to leave a review, and thanks for the compliment. I love writing tense scenes between Vader and Sidious, and it's great to know you like that writing!

**Jokerisdaking -** Thank you for the very kind review! I already have the chapters of his interaction with them written, and I honestly have to say that they are my favorite part of this story. I hope that you'll enjoy them too!

**TorontoBatFan -** Wow, thank you for a long review! Oh, yes, Vader goes through and displays quite a lot of emotions when he's reunited with the Naberrie clan. It'll be interesting, I promise. I'm not too big on revealing plot details (spoilers), and if I revealed any upcoming characters I would be breaking my rule. But please stayed tuned to see who will be making appearances!

**Snow Lepord -** Thanks for the very nice comments. In fact, it was after I received your review that I got the motivation to get back to work on Chapter 2 and upload it. So, an extra "Thank You" for giving me the boost to get back on it!


	3. Theed

﻿ **Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

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**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Theed**

"Sir, the city has been divided." The stormtropper looked into the unreadable mask of Darth Vader apprehensively. "The squads have determined the population of the capital city, divided it into squadrons, and have labeled them simply 'East Division' and 'West Division'." He didn't even pause a moment before he continued, "It has been determined randomly that the 'East Division' occupants will be terminated. 'West Division' will be separated into Camps T1, T2, T3, and T4. A similar process is in action all over the planet."

Vader smiled under his mask. At least he tried to smile. All the major cities of Naboo had half of their population presently being sorted into the camps that were in place especially for each city— three for each. Theed had another camp, T4, because it was the largest city of all and the half that would be spared from the killings could not fit into three camps. Each camp was labeled by the first letter of the city and the camp number it was. He had spent the beginning of the morning overseeing the roundup of the politically strong Nubians, and now in the afternoon he had moved to watching the more active process of rounding up the civilians.

"Good. You are dismissed, commander." The stormtrooper bowed and was gone. Vader looked around him. He was standing on a bare stone platform, with stone steps leading down from it to a street below. On either side of the street were columns, buildings, etc. The street stopped at the stairs leading up to the pavilion. This was obviously a place of some importance, a place where festivities and grand celebrations would be held. Strangely, he thought there was a strong sense of familiarity to it.

_It shouldn't be strange to be somewhere here that's familiar_, he silently reminded himself. _After all, I lived here once._

The sound of Gungan trumpets echoed in his ears… banners flew in the wind as confetti dropped from the sky like rain… a happy day… a beautiful day…

The lush, bright, natural beauty of Naboo contrasted very strongly with his black machinery. Everything around him was colorful and radiated life…. he, on the other hand, was nothing but darkness, and radiated destruction.

Darth Vader had never looked so out of place as he did then, stalking through the streets of Theed. He clashed powerfully with the environment surrounding him. It was hard to imagine that he had once strolled blissfully down the streets, hand-in-hand with a stunning brunette, whom he had lovingly called his wife.

Darth Vader squeezed his empty hands tightly.

The Nubian sun's rays no longer enforced his skin's handsome dark tan—it could not penetrate the black suit of machinery, and that Tatooine tan had been lost long ago. The cool breeze no longer caressed his golden blonde hair— even if the mask wasn't upon his head— all of his hair had been burned away ten years ago on Mustafar. But, though he would not—could not—admit it to himself, what hurt the most was that he could not smell the fine Nubian air. He remembered clearly how the air smelled in Theed, how you could breathe in the mild humidity, which was caused by the gigantic waterfalls not too far away. How you could smell flowers, and the food that was being cooked outdoors over fires. How, mixed in between all of that, he could smell Padmé's perfume.

He cursed his artificial respirator as he stomped down more streets. He eventually found himself cursing the entirety of his machine-like body. Yet, through his anger, he cursed the person who had put him in this suit in the first place.

"_Obi Wan_," he quietly seethed aloud, the name sounding like a fatal hex when spoken by the dark lord.

It had been ten years since he'd seen the wretched Jedi on the planet of Mustafar. However, the memory of their encounter had haunted him to this day…

_---FLASH BACK---_

Darth Vader's eyes narrowed as he saw the airship docked on its mechanical legs on the platform as he flew closer to the volcanic planet. This was the second time the dark apprentice had traveled to Mustafar, and this, once again, was no gentle calling.

He had tracked Jedi Knight Obi Wan Kenobi here.

He docked his ship on the same platform that he had months earlier, the day that he came to extinguish the Separatist threat once and for all, the day that Padmé was unknowingly taken from their bedroom— stolen and hidden away. That thought brought up remembrance of the desperate searches all over the galaxy to find her, searches that ended, of all places, in the Theed Palace on Naboo two weeks ago. His only sustaining thought was to track down that murderous, conniving, traitorous Kenobi and reap upon him what he owed. _He_ was the reason why Padmé had died. _He_ was the reason why their child had been delivered into the hands of Death.

The rage that had always been boiling in the Dark Lord since that day on Naboo caused him to growl out loudly, "Kenobi!" as soon as his feet touched the platform's concrete. He could feel his former master's presence nearby… coming closer. _Good, _Vader thought. _He knows I'm here. At least he's not foolish enough to waste my time by cowering. He gets to die all the sooner!_

The heat of the environment had already caused beds of sweat to form on Vader's forehead, but the hot rage of such intensity that flowed through his veins made him feel as if he was on fire. He smiled grimly. _Perhaps that is how Kenobi will meet his doom. After all, why not take advantage of the surrounding area to exemplify his suffering and torment?_

The presence was close.

"Lord Vader, I presume?"

Vader turned slowly, a malicious grin on his tense face. He faced the Clone Wars hero, his icy yellow eyes narrowed into slits.

"_You_," he whispered hotly. "You have taken her from me!" He raised his right arm and pointed a trembling, accusing finger in Obi Wan's direction.

It pained Obi Wan so badly to see his former Padawan in this state. "You have done that yourself! You lost her the day you choose the Dark Side over her."

"I was doing what was best for her! I was going to protect her!"

Obi Wan rolled his shoulders backwards. "_I_ did what was best for her… and for her offspring that she carried. I was saving them from your lust for power."

"Why?" Darth Vader questioned tensely. "Why here, Kenobi? Why did you come to Mustafar?"

The Jedi Master raised his eyebrows. "Intrigued by my choice of vacation, Anakin?"

"_I asked you a question, old man!"_

"Ah, you're just curious, I see." Obi Wan's faked light air dissipated around him as he paused for several moments. When he did continue, he said slowly, "I wanted to see it. I wanted to see the place where my Padawan had forsaken all that he'd come to love and honor. I wanted to see the destruction that the new Lord of the Sith had reeked."

The corners of the young man's face went up in a crooked smile. "You should have visited the Chancellor's office. That's where Darth Vader was born, though Anakin Skywalker didn't die until they told him his wife was dead!" He paused, considering Obi Wan's comments again. "The Purges haven't been enough for you? The Jedi Temple wasn't enough for you?" His smile evaporated immediately with a new thought. "_My wife's dead body wasn't enough for you!_"

Obi Wan sobered even more. "The loss of Padmé is a great one. She was a good friend."

Anakin practically ripped his black Sith cloak off, itching for battle. "_DON'T_ you speak her name! Don't you dare think that you have enough honors to say her name!"

Obi Wan slowly removed his Jedi cloak, dreading what he knew was to come. "If you'd told her that you were going to Mustafar, she would have followed you."

"Good! I would have protected her had she been with me!"

Obi Wan shook his head sadly. "No, then this fight would have only happened much sooner. It would have happened then. I watched her after I first spoke with her. I was going to trail her if she went anywhere, just in case you had told her where you were going." He paused briefly, "We would have seen each other then."

"Then now you would be dead, and Padmé and our child would be by my side!"

"I suppose we will never know," Obi Wan softly stated, as he remorsefully unhooked his trusted lightsaber from his belt. "Will we, Spawn of Sith?

"You are going to pay for what you did to Padmé and me, I promise," Vader threatened tersely.

"I will do what I must." Obi Wan's lightsaber ignited with a movement of his thumb.

"You will try."

_---FLASHBACK ENDS---_

"Lord Vader?"

Pleased for the interruption into his thoughts, the dark lord unhooked the comlink by his belt and raised it in front of his mask. "What is it, Admiral Tyson?"

The voice replied through the static, "We've run into some… trouble with a family here, my lord."

Vader sighed with annoyance. "And _why_ are you bothering me, Admiral?"

"Forgive me, my lord. However, they are a rather important family, one that, His Highness, the Emperor _himself_ mentioned. They're importance and recognition on the planet seems to be highly esteemed—"

"_What is the point, Tyson!_"

The voice, usually proud and firm, trembled obviously over the comlink. Meekly, Admiral Tyson replied, "We need your… _assistance_, Lord Vader."

Vader sighed angrily again— which was followed by a faint whimper of distress emitting from the man on the other side of the comlink. There were some Imperial officers who did there job, and did it well, then there were others…. like Tyson… who Vader considered cowards. They weren't worthy to be in the service of the Empire. Then again, Darth Vader hadn't met anyone who _didn't_ tremble after it was obvious that he was upset with them.

"Very well. What is the address of this supposedly important family that you don't have the back bone to handle?"

After a pause, the shaky voice replied, "Their last name is Naberrie. Husband's first name: Ruwee, wife: Jobal. The address is—"

"_Never mind!_" Vader shouted anxiously into the comlink. "_I know the way! I'll be there shortly!_" He switched off the link as he turned and instantly, without taking a moment to ponder his bearings, started marching towards the 'East Division' of Theed.

He ignored the fact that his left hand was shaking.

* * *

TBC...

Woo hoo! Now the real plot begins!

**Jokerisdaking - **Hello again! I must be setting a record for myself-- 3 new chapters within 3 days! I'm very happy that you're enjoying the story. They'll be more updates coming, and I appreciate you going along on this ride with me! Thank you once more for you comments.

**Leif of Rohan - :D **It's great to hear from you again! I hope you didn't have to wait too long for this update.You gave me a huge compliment when you said that you could picture it in your mind--I think that should be one of the main goals of any writer. I'm so glad that you enjoyed it!

**eridani - **lol, unusual plots are my calling card. :) I tend to get... _weird_... plot bunnies. Thank you so much for your comments about the characters, because I always strive to try and portray the characters as true as they would be in the movies. I truly appreciate it!

**Snow Lepord -** Ben Kenobi voice Hello there/Ben Kenobi voice It's wonderful to read more comments from you! I'm glad that you were glad to see an update. :-) I guess I'm not beingvery nice to little Vader/Ani, eh? Oh, but just see how I pull on his dusty heart strings later on... He's gonna need serious therapy by the time this is all over! Thank you again for such kind remarks!

**orliNkeira -** Yay! I'm so flattered that you liked that specific piece about the waterfall so much! Ohhh, grins you remember _Realizations_. Yep, I removed that one from the site until I can revamp it and then I'll repost it. That's what I'm doing with this one-- I took them both down in late December, and now I'm going back and trying to make them a lot better and then reposting. But I need to do it one at a time, or else I'll fall behind. _Realizations_ is next on the agenda as soon as this one is completed! Thanks again for leaving your comments!

**---See that little button down there? The one that says "Submit Review" next to it? ... Try clicking on it and seeing what happens... ;-)---**


	4. The Naberrie’s

﻿Thank you for all of the reviews! Each one hasbeen a joy to read. I'm a review-addict, I admit it!

* * *

**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**The Naberrie's**

"Ah, good afternoon, Lord Vader. I hope your transport to the planet was comfortable."

"Fairly," Vader responded monotonously.

"Beautiful planet, My Lord. Have you ever ventured to Naboo before?"

"What seems to be the problem, Commander?" Vader asked, already feeling impatient.

"The Naberrie's refuse to move," Admiral Tyson replied, shuffling his feet, obviously on edge. "With the Emperor's implied interest in this family… we're hesitant to _damage the goods_, you might say."

A pause. "Leave it to me."

The next moment, Admiral Tyson was watching the retreating black form of Darth Vader as the Sith stomped up the steps leading into the Naberrie home.

Vader took a deep, abrupt breath before he passed through the doorway. The memory came without any warning or any regard for his sanity.

_She smiled as she waited in the doorway, their baggage at her feet, when the front porch lights suddenly flicked off. She was thrown under the secret veil of darkness, but her brown eyes shone with their own ethereal light. _Hmmm, the Force is at work tonight,_ she said silently to herself. As he approached, he wrapped his arms around her small frame, his fingers gliding over her smooth abdomen._

_Her smile radiated as she raised her hands to intertwine with his around her middle. "I know these hands," she mused, as she began to caress his fingers._

_"I know this body," he replied, keeping his voice low as his grin spread._

_Mindful of the proximity of her parents somewhere inside the house, Padmé kept her voice quiet as she responded, "You know my body very well, Mr. Skywalker."_

_Anakin's slightly muffled reply brought an even wider smile to Padmé's face. "Be careful, sweetheart, there are young children around." He sounded bashful and even shy as he reprimanded her. But Padmé knew that he was really smiling. She took a deep breath of the black night's air._

_"Speaking of children…" Padmé's voice drifted._

_Anakin kissed her head of curls. "Yes?" He then rested his chin on top of her head, breathing in her scent as he stared out into the night, listening._

_"You think maybe one day…" her voice drifted once more. Just before Anakin was about to prompt her to go on again, she quickly continued, "Nevermind. Come on, we have to catch our shuttle." She offered a smile as she gave his hands a final squeeze. "Coruscant awaits!"_

_She stepped away to lean down and grab her suitcase, but was suddenly spun around and pressed against her husband's chest. "Smooth, Ani," she whispered with a smile, before raising her hands to cup his face as they leaned in towards each other. They shared one last passionate kiss under the blanket of night, completely shaded from any questioning eyes peering out of surrounding houses that might have recognized a certain senator kissing a certain recognizable Clone Wars hero. _

_A little over a minute later, he was carrying her second bag and his only one down the steps, trailing dutifully after her. As they walked in the direction of the nearest Shuttle Depot, the Jedi flicked his fingers, and the brilliant light suddenly returned in the lamps around the Naberrie porch._

Broken glass lay scattered across the tile floor and a few chairs were tipped over, but other than that, and the dozen of Stormtroopers lining the halls, the sunshine lit up the indoors of the Naberrie home's dining room beautifully. It could have passed for an ordinary, normal day, except for the obvious irregularities this afternoon.

"Darth Vader," Ruwee Naberrie mumbled in surprise and fear, as the new addition to the scene raised his gloved, clenched hands to rest on his hips in an authoritative position. With his arms and chest stretched outward, his cape floating with a haunting grace behind him, and the deep breathing mechanism a constant companion, Darth Vader was the living image of fear and power.

The Naberrie's were enclosed in their own self-created hush as they stood in frightful awe of him. Both Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie had aged nicely. The wrinkles around her eyes complimented Jobal's face, and Ruwee had lost some weight in ten years. Sola hadn't changed much at all, though there were a few new wrinkles lines around her face. The stresses of motherhood had some obvious and wholesome effects on the still young wife. She was clinging to the arm of a man about her age who was standing in a protective stance next to her.

Two young brunette ladies stood on the opposite side of the room. They stood right next to each other, their hands tightly clasped in unison in between them. They each darted their focuses between each other and the other Naberrie's on the other side of the room.

The younger of the two girls, the one with wild, curly hair, sent a pleading look towards Darred Naberrie. "Dad?" she questioned.

Although Darred had not been there during Anakin's initial meeting with Padmé's family, the two had met and become good friends over the three years before Anakin Skywalker had transformed into Darth Vader. The two had been complete opposites, much like their wives were total contradictions. While Padmé had been strong, a leader who stood up for what she believed, Sola was content to sit on the sidelines and watch while occasionally cheering on the home team. Darred was also a timid person in that regard and they lived comfortably in their not-very-exciting lives. Padmé and Anakin's spirit had matched inch for inch when it came to a love of fervor and venture. While Sola saw life from a very moderate point of view, Padmé's exhumed passion and enthusiasm. Something as fiery in the spirit as that in a woman might scare off Darred, but it was one of the things Anakin had loved the most about his wife.

Darred stiffly turned towards the two young women, the look of a frightened, devoted father in his eyes. "Ryoo, Pooja, come over here."

While Ryoo had been six, Pooja Naberrie had been only a mere four years old when Anakin Skywalker had first seen the sisters, laughing and bounding down the Naberrie's steps to be the welcoming party to their aunt and her unknown, tall escort. The sound of their sweet laughter had rung in the ears of Padmé and Anakin, and their cheerful smiles had beamed in the warm sunshine.

Now, almost thirteen years since that day, Ryoo had grown into a lovely nineteen year-old woman. Her hair had been shoulder-length and as straight as a board the last time Skywalker had seen her, which had been at the last Festival of Lights before the end of the war. Her hair was now a rich brown, made up of ocean waves of a smooth texture that fell to her waist. She looked much like her father, though she certainly had her mother's, the Naberrie's, chin and brown eyes.

Although Anakin Skywalker had never admitted it to himself, much less to Padmé, it had been Pooja, the youngest niece, who had been Anakin's favorite. Her sometimes wildly curly hair, fiery spirit, and ability to somehow cast a magical spell across all those that encountered her had reminded him greatly of his Padmé. She now looked like a clone of her deceased aunt, with silky brown curls and deep brown eyes. She was truly beautiful, and Vader found it difficult to examine her for more than a couple of seconds. Her resemblance to Padmé was striking.

Not so many years ago, he had spent hours tumbling around with these girls on the back lawn, or giving them piggy-back rides, or sipping imaginary tea with them and their stuffed animals.

_"No, Ani!" Pooja exclaimed in mock anger. Her bright smile showed her true delight. "You hold the tea cup like this!"_

_Anakin laughed at the little five year-old's insistence. "Like this?" he asked, holding up what he guessed to be the correct way for Pooja. In the Jedi Temple, young ones had been schooled in proper etiquette for numerous planets and systems, etc., so as to never offend any culture by way of their manners. The problem was, Pooja had a way to hold a cup of tea of her own—one that he was sure he had never seen at the Temple._

_"No! You have to balance it on your knee facing this way!" She crossed her arms. "I've already told you this two million times before!"_

_Anakin's lips tightened into a small frown, but the merriment didn't leave his eyes. "Oh, no, Pooja— you sound like Master Obi-Wan."_

_"No, she doesn't," interjected Ryoo, who was sitting beside Anakin on his other side at the circular table in Padmé's room. "Pooy sounds like our mom."_

_"Ryoo!__ I told you not to call me Pooy! If you call me Pooy one more time, I'm gonna tell Mom, and she's gonna…"_

_Anakin couldn't focus on what Pooy—er, Pooja—was telling her sister about what their mother would do. Anakin's attention was on the pair of eyes he felt touching his back at that moment. His back was to the door of Padmé's bedroom, which had recently become Pooja's & Ryoo's tea room , and almost everyone in that household had brown eyes… but he knew exactly whose chocolate orbs were resting on him. And he could sense her beautiful smile as she watched the scene in front of her as she leaned against the doorframe._

_He used the Force to see her standing there, light red dress draped around her, lying in a puddle around her feet, her brown locks up in a lazy half-up half-down assortment, and her arms crossed over her chest. He knew his wife well enough to know that her arms were not crossed because she was upset or cold, but rather because she often said that she sometimes crossed her arms over herself and imagined that it was him, her husband, hugging her whenever he couldn't do it himself._

_He smiled hugely, and Ryoo paused for a brief time to give him a strange look before continuing the argument with her sibling. His grin was the product of the occurrence of a warm thought—the only reason why she was settling for an imaginary hug from him was because she didn't want him to get up and come over to her. She didn't want to disturb the cozy scene in front of her watchful eyes just because she wanted her husband's sturdy, strong, enveloping arms to catch her in an embrace and hold her tight._

_She also thought she was skillfully spying on her husband._

_He subtly shook his head in silent laughter. _Sweetheart, you can't spy on a Jedi sitting five feet away from you who's in love with you, and who knows your presence like he knows the gold flicks in your eyes.

_Evidently the argument had come to an end when the whinnying demands for piggy-back rides echoed in Anakin's ears. He only pretended to put up a mock fight for about five seconds, before both Ryoo and Pooja were suddenly securely latched onto his back. He took them round and round the bedroom, careful to both not run into anythin, and to not look towards the doorway, giving away the knowledge that he was aware of a figure standing there. The girls screamed with joy and delight as he playfully, and just as carefully, lifted the girls up into the air and then down upon the bed. He overwhelmed them with tickles, until he was 'overcome by their strength over him' and mercilessly tickled by the brunette partners-in-crime. In one swift motion though, he had them on their backs, and rapidly gave them each several raspberry blows on their bellies, which produced screams of merry laughter from their vocal cords and rang around the room._

_It was Ryoo who finally noticed the slim figure trying to hide herself in the shadows of the doorway, and who was failing miserably in their attempt to hide the obvious appearance and sound of her giggles behind her hands. Upon seeing that she'd been discovered, Padmé let out one loud exclamation of giggles, and then told the girls that their father wanted to see them downstairs on the back lawn. With mild complaints, Ryoo and Pooja jumped off the bed and whizzed past their aunt, who didn't really notice. Padmé's eyes were glued on Anakin's as he drowned her in his pair of mystical blue pools. He laid back on the bed at a diagonal, his boots crossed and resting on the floor, his arms prepping his upper body up on their weight. He stared at her, and she stared back intensely._

_"Darred didn't really ask for them, right?" Anakin asked, though in the tone of one who already knows the answer to their question. His low, gruff voice sent warm shivers down Padmé's back._

_She nodded her head in confirmation of his question. "My parents and Sola went out to get some things from the market. Darred is working on his speeder in the backyard. However, both 3PO and R2 are downstairs in the dining room, and they should keep them occupied for quite some time." As she had whispered the second half of her statement in a low, sultry voice, she had shut the bedroom door behind her, leaning on it leisurely when it was fully closed._

_With a gleam in his eyes, Anakin asked, "Who will occupy the other? Do you mean Ryoo and Pooja will take care of 3PO and R2?"_

_Padmé smiled lazily as she put the lock in place on the door. "How about you just worry about who is going to take care of _you_ right now, alright?"_

_Anakin merely nodded his head as Padmé began to slowly walk towards him. Every step she took seemed to last an eternity, when actually she was standing directing in front of him within five seconds. To Anakin, that was five seconds too long._

_A light smile graced her features as she began to caress his face with her smooth hands. She fondly remembered Anakin playing so enthusiastically with her nieces only a few minutes before._

_"I love you," she whispered with all the sincerity in her heart._

_Anakin smiled, as his love seemed to radiate out of every pore from his body. "I love you," the husband replied to the wife, before he leaned up to capture her mouth in a consuming kiss._

After Padmé had revealed the news of her pregnancy to him when he'd returned from the Outer Rim sieges, she often said that he would be an outstanding, remarkable father. He had looked forward to the day when he could prove her right.

However, that fiery dream of his dear wife and child had been stomped out the day Padmé died ten years ago of a broken heart.

Lord Vader found it very unusual that a nineteen year-old and a seventeen year-old would be at home. He knew that the usual age for young adults to begin attending college level academies was seventeen, which both of the ladies either had reached or had surpassed. Knowing that education was a very big part of the Naberrie home and fundamentals—Ruwee Naberrie himself had been a renowned professor at Theed University for some time—he couldn't help but wonder why Ryoo and Pooja were there. He neglected to ask himself why he cared so much about the fate of a family that he should be regarding as any other family under his occupation and control.

Gruffly, he asked the two young women, "_Why_ are _you_ here?"

His frustration grew as he only received blank stares in return.

"Ryoo! Pooja!" he indicated. "I asked why you are here. Shouldn't you be in a university by now?"

Ryoo's confusion prompted her to quickly ask without thinking, "How would you know how old we are? And how do you know our names?"

Darth Vader abruptly marched towards her, broken glass from the tableware breaking and cracking loudly underneath his heavy black boots. He stopped only about a foot away from her, letting his height impose intimidation upon her. Well, she did have to strain her neck up in order to look at him—which she soon decided was a bad idea, so she swiftly bowed her head in timidness and stared at the floor.

The only sound was his mechanical breathing for many seconds. _Inhale… Exhale… In hale…_ "I made it my business to know, young one. That is all you need to worry about." He leaned forward, until the black skull-like mask was inches away from hers. His loud voice echoed in her ears so loudly they hurt as he warned, "And _I_ ask the questions!"

Not a beat of time passed in between the moment when Vader finished his statement and the moment when he turned and proceeded to the place where he was standing before Ryoo's comment.

He resumed as if nothing had happened. "Why are these two people here, instead of at school?"

Again he didn't ask himself why he wanted to know so much. He ignored the thought that maybe he desperately wanted to know about the only real family he had had besides his mother. He rejected the idea that he wanted to feel caught up on the past ten years of the lives of the people who had accepted him with open arms, cared for him, loved him, and never judged him.

"It's the Festival of Lights," Darred said, after swallowing nervously. "Or, well, it _was_. The girls have a two-day vacation from Theed University. They chose to come home to celebrate the festivities with us. It's the first time the girls have managed to come home in weeks… so we are all joining together here, at their grandparents house."

If the family was waiting for an acknowledgement that Lord Vader had received this information, they never got it. He didn't nod, didn't mumble or say anything—he only continued to stare at them from the black abyss of his eye lenses.

Vader wouldn't acknowledge the… _regret?..._ he felt as he looked upon the two young ladies, who were practically hiding behind their mother and father. As if their stiffness and morbid silence weren't sufficient evidence, Vader knew the look of fear in their eyes well enough to know that they were absolutely petrified of him. He was this black, large, and ominous figure that had sucked all of the warmth out of their once cozy home.

In normal situations, he would hungrily feed off of the fear emanating from those that felt terror around him. It was the exlair of his life— the never-failing drink that satisfied upon demand. He was sucking up the fear from Sola, Darred, and Ruwee greedily, but theirs was the only ones he could obtain. Jobal Naberrie was too much like her youngest daughter—what fear he was sensing from her, and its supply defiantly left something to be desired, was too familiar and reminded him too much of a certain young woman related in the closest way to Mrs. Naberrie. The anxiety tinged with humble pride, devotion to those important to her, brown hair gleaming, doe eyes shining with a mastery of wisdom, an almost defiant upward tilt of her perfectly shaped chin…

_…**Padmé**, _he silently moaned_…_

… it was far too familiar to draw from.

But, if possible, the children seemed even worse. The sisters' fear was too pure, too uncomplicated. Their souls were endless wells of innocence. Ironically, this was usually the sweetest nectar for Vader—the unadulterated fear— but now, no matter how hard he tried, he felt an emotional pain from harming these young angels, these girls who could pass as slightly modified clones of Padmé. This realization even caused his feast of Ruwee, Darred, and Sola's fear to sour.

Disgusted with himself, he turned to leave this haven of everything he stood against. Resuming his suddenly very frequent habit, he cursed the Emperor for sending him to this planet. He cursed Naboo for bringing back memories that he didn't want. He cursed this elegant house that was full of memories. He cursed the elder Naberrie's for being Padmé's family. However, though he vainly tried to, he couldn't bring himself to curse the young sisters.

He was ready to hear the swish of his cloak as he walked out the front door, never to return.

Then she whispered it.

"Oh, Mom…thank goodness Auntie was able to get out of here just in time… you know how much she despises troopers."

He stopped abruptly, grasping for the banister by the steps near the front porch to avoid collapsing. The world was spinning in front of his black lenses.

He certainly knew the Naberrie family well enough to know that Ryoo and Pooja Naberrie only had _one _aunt. Their father Darred had been an only child, and Jobal and Ruwee had only had two daughters. The young ladies' only aunt _ever _was Padmé Naberrie.

No. _NO_. It couldn't be true. He wouldn't let it be true. He was too accustomed to the familiarity that had become his life for it to suddenly be thrown upside down because of a few words spoken by a naïve teenager from another lifetime. The most cynical part of him, which was the majority of his spirit, laughed mockingly at the part of him that wondered if the sound of Ryoo's words had merely been just a figment of his imagination.

But all of his doubts were dashed into the gutter when he heard a large slap, followed by an indignant muffled mumble—he spun around, leaned, and darted his head to look into the room. Sola had suddenly slapped her hand over her oldest daughter's mouth, and Ryoo was definitely not pleased, as evident by her brief complaining. It was enough to convince Vader that he hadn't imagined a thing.

Padmé's own family had just revealed the truth to him. His long lost wife… was alive.

_Her_ smile flashed before his eyes. He could hear _her_ beautifully humming a melody in his ears. Memories from the past swarmed him until he thought that his artificial legs would give way beneath him. Then he heard the sound of his own sobs, produced in the following nights after his massacre at the Theed palace ten years ago His gut-wrenching moans had echoed throughout his lonesome chambers as he'd sat in a corner, Sith garments and all, mourning his spouse with a broken heart that flooded his eyes. He remembered the searing pain that had scorched his heart whenever he had so much as seen a woman with brown hair and brown eyes, or whenever he saw a woman and young child happy together. He remembered despising being around happy families. They only reminded him of what he had had once, but then lost forever.

He slowly turned and took a shaky step forward into the house. Jobal slowly closed her eyes and dropped her head with the realization that Vader had heard, and now knew. After dodging skilled bounty hunters, the Empire's agents, Sith Lords, and other ruthless dignitaries for ten years…. Padmé Amidala had been betrayed by her own family.

It was the same Padmé Amidala whose heart was beating at a calm pace as she looked out over the water behind her serene home, at that exact same moment, while Darth Vader faced her family, his heart pounding like thunder in a summer storm.

* * *

TBC… 

**J.E.A.R.K.Potter - **Thank you for your comments! It's great to hear from you again!

**scooter5710 - **Yay! I'm glad you think so!

**eridani - **It's a pleasure to read your remarks, as always. I love that you loved that line:-) I'm a nut when it comes to characterization-- I'm so pleased that you picked up on that detail!

**ThePrincess04** - It's _SOOO_ good to hear from you again! I'm so happy that you like this story. LOL, you'll find that the updates on this one will be **MUCH** closer together than the updates on _The Same Woman_!

**BGTom -** Hmmm, you sensed correctly. The force is with you, it seems. ;-)

**Padfoot Reincarnated - **Thank you very much! Your words are very kind and generous-- thank you!

**orliNkeira - **My goodness! Thank you for such a long review! Alas, I know exactly what you mean. :-) Believe me, if I could write every SW story with him without the suit, I would. However, that wouldn't be true to his character. I think the suit adds demensions to who he is and how he acts. Oh, sorry, I'm babbling! I was very flattered by your comments. I love knowing what lines you specifically like, because I guess it makes me like them more, too! Thank you for your review!

**acdecnerd - **Welcome! I hope I didn't leave you waiting long for the next chapter... :-) Thank you for your comments!

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Thank you to everyone once again for such wonderful reviews!


	5. Disbelief

**Author's Note:** Okay, I do have some bad news. **I'm going out of town for two weeks** tomorrow morning. Eeek! I know! I had hoped to have this entire story finished and posted before then, but that is certainly not going to happen. The good news? I do have the next chapter ready to go, so as soon as I get back there will be no stalling, and I'll immediately have up a new chapter while I start working on the next ones.

Some of you know that this is the second time I've posted this story. I got up to six chapters last time (this is currently chapter #5), then got a bad case of writer's block. After months of waiting, and realizing that I really hadn't written the story to its full potiential, I removed it. Months later, I've now revamped the old chapters and I'm almost done posting them. When I get back, after I've posted "revamped" chapter six, I will begin on the first of the very new chapters. Then everyone will get to be surprised:-)

**Reviews are very greatly appreciated! I look forward to reading them when I get back!**

* * *

﻿ **_A Warm Breeze In the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Disbelief**

"Where?"

The low mumble of his voice echoed off the walls. Silence consumed time.

"_Where!_"

Jobal took a defiant step forward, the strong force of a mother's love pounding like liquid fire in her veins. "My daughter is no threat to the Empire. She's no longer a queen. She's no longer a senator! She will cause no trouble for you!"

"Where, Jobal! Where _is Padmé!_"

But the aged woman's eyes met his desperation inch for inch. Her relentless determination for keeping her daughter safe matched his desperate determination for finding his wife

"You know I can make life very unhappy for you and your family."

The elder lady raced her Naberrie chin in defiance. "You won't get her location out of me, and no one else here will tell you either." Those surrounding her nodded their agreement solemnly. "You see, our bond with Padmé is something that you haven't ever, don't, and won't ever understand. We love Padmé!"

Vader could have laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

"Padmé is our family; we won't betray her!" Ruwee shouted.

"You already have!" Vader shot back. "She's managed to remain hidden, believed dead, for ten years! And who, of all people, reveals the truth? Who exposes her lie? A member of her own family!"

Ryoo's doe eyes dropped and she struggled to hold back regretful tears. Then, once she realized that, because of her actions, she had no right to hold back those tears, they fell rapidly. Her silent tear drops were laced with guilt.

Vader took a threatening step forward. "I will find out were she is, Jobal! Now that I know she's alive, I won't stop from tearing this galaxy apart until I find her!" The Dark Lord of the Sith was not at all accustomed to his captives arguing with him. He wasn't accustomed to _anyone _arguing with him.

"You don't understand! _She's no longer a threat to you or your Empire!_"

If the Naberrie's could have seen them, they'd have known that Vader's eyes were wild with rage. "You're going to regret this, Jobal. Tell me her whereabouts now, before the extent of yourfuture sufferingreaches unbearable heights!"

Jobal straightened defiantly at his words. They angered her muchmore than they scared her. If anything, his statement only strengthened her resolve. "Your threats have no impact on this mother."

Vader's desperation to find Padmé reached a new level. "I warn you, your stubbornness is going to cost many innocent lives!" His voice thundered throughout the house. "_I need to know!_"

"Her whereabouts mean nothing to a Sith!"

His voice reached new volumes. "_BUT THEY MEAN SOMETHING TO A HUSBAND!_"

Silence suddenly reigned yet again in the household. All of the Naberrie's frowned in sudden confusion and they darted looks of bewilderment at each other. "Anakin…" Ruwee started.

"No," Sola interrupted. "Anakin died at the end of the Clone War. He was murdered. Padmé told us herself. That was the day that Padmé told us they had ever been married in the first place."

Vader nodded slowly, and his voice was low once more. "Yes, he did die. His death was horrible."

"Is this what you meant?" Jobal asked in a tearful voice. "You've come to us to open old wounds? To remind us of those close to us, who we have lost?"

Vader continued on as if she'd never interrupted him. "Anakin Skywalker stopped living the moment they told me… that his wife had died, along with their unborn child." He took a moment to pause— old memories and emotions were surfacing with a torturous result. "When they told me my Padmé had died of a broken heart…"

In a flash of hot anger, Ruwee stepped forward, his face flushed. "Oh, I get it now, _Your Lordship_!" He spat the title out bitterly. "You loved Padmé! Hah, it was probably more like a morbid fascination! You were jealous of her marriage to Anakin! You sick, disgusting, evil monster! You blamed that poor, heart-broken boy when Padmé "_died_" and it was _you_ who killed him!"

Vader hung his head low. His emotions were swirling around him in a confusing fog. "Yes, I suppose that is true… from a certain point of view." He reminded himself that the familiar painful feeling of knowing Padmé was dead was over—he reminded himself that Padmé was alive. Immediately the fog cleared, and he raised his head again.

No one said a word for several minutes. Lord Vader stood there, pondering strategically what to say, as the adults wondered what to do, what they _could _do, now that they thought they knew the Dark Lord's real motives.

It was a light, airy voice that finally spoke.

"No." Pooja's soft whisper broke the tense silence. "That doesn't make any sense. You all are saying that _he_ killed Anakin when he heard that AuntPadmé died of a broken heart—yet Anakin had already been dead when Auntie told us he'd died in the Clone War. Auntie "_died_" because she was in such grief over _Anakin's_ _death_." She paused and swallowed before she continued, letting the silence wrap around her briefly like a security blanket. Finally, she continued, "That's how he knew our names. That's how he knew how old we are." She paused. "That's why he cares so much." She tilted her head, her eyes wide with a tear-jerking innocence.She timidly asked in a whispery voice, "Un-Uncle Ani?"

Vader felt long dead heart strings be pulled on painfully. Many moments passed before he replied in a somber tone, "Hello, Pooy."

A tear drop fell from the tip of Pooja's chin. In the silence, its contact with the floor could be heard. Another followed. "N-nobody calls me that anymore."

With a dazed expression that the Naberrie's couldn't see, but could clearly hear, Vader replied, "I… I've missed a lot of things."

With agonizing slowness, both Jobal and Sola raised their hands to cover their mouths in disbelief. "Ani?" Jobal questioned, unable to comprehend. Her wet eyes glistened. "How…" The silence choked them—they were too shocked to take a breath.

Vader stood taller. "Now you understand. Now you will tell me were my wife is."

Jobal's eyes cleared, and her jaw tightened as she clenched her hand and rested it by her side once again. She took the all too familiar debating stance for a second time.

"No."

"_Jobal_—"

"You address me as Mrs. Naberrie or Lady Naberrie, Lord Vader! Don't you forget— you cleaned up my dishes after I fed you numerous meals! I gave you a warm bed in this house whenever you wanted one!" Her chest heaved with her heavy breathing.

"_I_ protected your daughter's life!"

"And now I don't trust you with her life!"

Vader's fists were clenched painfully. Suddenly, a nearby plate went crashing to the floor with a jittery flick of his wrist. Darred jumped out of the way of the flying shards just in time. "I'm losing patience!"

"I've _lost_ patience, Anak—V-Vad—whoever you are!"

"Admiral Tyson!" Vader abruptly called in frustration, his voice echoing down the halls of the house.

The sound of a pair of hard boots hitting the tile floor could be heard after a few quiet, tense moments. Within a short time, the Imperial officer stood facing the Dark Lord of the Sith. "You called for my assistance, Lord Vader?"

"Yes," Vader replied in a low growl. "Take those two younger girls. Send them to camp T3."

As Sola's sudden cry filled the air, Tyson bowed shortly, and responded, "As you wish, my Lord." He spun and barked the orders to three stormtroopers standing nearby. He had to strain his voice to be heard over the wails of Pooja and Ryoo. The two terrified teenagers were crying, along with their parents, and they grasped the skirts of the mother and grandmother as if for dear life.

Darred was shouting something, but it was unintelligent to anyone. It was as if his vocal cords had the strength to produce sound, but his numb lips were unable to form anything to make sense. Elder Ruwee was yelling hotly, "No, Vader, _no_!" His shouts to the Dark Lord went on deaf ears. It was Jobal's reply that was not only the single reply that Vader heard, but was the comment that cut into Vader. Her soft mumble barely made any sound, but the lady who had formed Padmé Amidala into the woman she had become had all of Vader's attention.

"_My _daughter… _my _Padmé…. married _you_?"

After prying the young ladies off of their family, the Stormtroopers began leading the squirming sisters out of the house, while four others held the screaming Naberrie's back. Vader spun to follow the white-clad, armored men. Admiral Tyson followed him in toe.

Once outside, the girls were loaded into a large, covered speeder, and their pleading screams were muffled behind the closed doors of the transporter. Vader yanked the assigned troopers aside with the force. He didn't give them time to recover before he started shouting.

"If a single hair on their heads is harmed, I'll break all of your necks!" His stressed voice left no room for questions. "You treat them and protect them like you would the Emperor!"

He turned to Admiral Tyson, his black, raging, and intimidating figure frightening the officer more than anything ever had. "Drive them around the next corner! Park the transporter out of sight!" He shook his gloved finger an inch away from Tyson's face. "_You wait there until you get orders from me!"_

Without another word, he spun and headed back inside the house, his black cape trailing behind him.

**TBC….**

* * *

**backlash - **Welcome! I'm very pleased that you like it! Thank you for reviewing!

**orliNkeira - **Nah, she's not stupid. Just... wrong timing. ;-) She really thought that he was no longer in hearing distance. Gotta watch those Sith Lords! They've got great hearing! Thank you! I was getting worried that I was putting in _too many_ flashbacks. Glad to know you enjoy them!

**Jokerisdaking -** LOL, I would not know how that feels. But yep, "shocking" would be an understatement. I'm happy that you're enjoying this story so much!

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	6. Weakness

Whew! Two weeks away, and in the middle of my trip I got tons of ideas for the upcoming chapters. I don't think I'll ever have to worry about writer's block on this story:-)

* * *

**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Weakness**

"I can't stand to look at you, Anakin!" Sola screamed the second Darth Vader returned into the room.

"Then don't," he casually replied. "I won't make you—yet. Now, where did we leave off? Ahh, yes, we were discussing the whereabouts of my wife."

Darred boldly shouted with a braveness in his tone that he did not feel, "Give us back our children, you beast, or else you'll regret the day you ever stepped foot on Naboo!"

It was a weak remark, not even worth responding too. However, what angered Darth Vader was the simple fact that someone, albeit in a puny way, had the audacity to order _him_ around.

He stomped right up to Darred and, without skipping a beat, he wrapped his right hand around the young man's neck and raised him off the floor by his tight grip.

He tilted his demonic head to the side in mock curiosity. "Or else, _what_, Darred?"

"_No!_ Put him down, please!" Sola shouted tearfully. "I beg you!"

Vader continued to glare at Darred. "I ought to break your neck right here. You're close enough, you know, they'd hear the crackling sound of your spine breaking. Of course, you'd be the only one who wouldn't hear it. Do you wonder why, Darred?"

"_Nooooo!_ Let my husband go, please!"

"Do you want to know why, _Darred!"_

"You won't!" Sola exclaimed. "Please, please, you won't!"

Jobal's anxious cries joined the others. "You can't kill family! No one can kill family!"

While what he was about to tell her was in reality a lie, it was something that he had badly wanted, _needed_, to happen. Besides, it would get his desperate point across. "I killed the bastard Obi-Wan Kenobi, my former master, for keeping her whereabouts a secret from me. That man had been the closest thing a father that I'd ever had, despicable as he was." He tightened his grip around Darred's neck, and the young man struggled out feeble gasps, his eyes growing wider. "So don't you tell me I can't kill family!"

Darred felt himself getting colder and weaker as he gaped into the devilish mask before him. He could see the image of his struggling self in his reflection on the black helmet.

"Please, oh, please no!" Poor Sola's screams were louder than anyone's. "He hasn't done anything wrong! No! _Please don't hurt him!_ _LET HIM GO!_"

With sparked interest, Vader watched Sola behind his black lens. With his new intrigue, he keenly noticed how emotional— how _weak_— she was becoming with each passing moment. Her children had been separated from her at a time when she needed them the closest—taken to a camp out of reach. Her husband gasped manically for air as her former brother-in-law, Darth Vader, held him mercilessly by the throat. The only thing keeping her from shattering was her surrounded family. If only he could get her alone, with out the security of her mother, father, and husband…

But first, Vader flung Darred about three feet carelessly. The gasping man crashed into his father-in-law with tremendous force, but both were relatively unharmed, just as Vader had intended.

"Thank you," a tearful Sola whispered, as she moved past Vader and towards her husband.

_Gratitude… what a strange thing to be offered right now._ "Don't thank me, Sola." In the next breath, Vader continued, "Troopers! Take this one," he pointed to Sola's shocked face, "into the room down the hall!" He stressed the words, "Use _system 5-19 _to get her to talk! I want to know where Padmé Amidala Naberrie-_Skywalker_" he blatantly stressed the final name, "is. Use any means necessary!"

As he watched the troopers pry Sola's fingers off her husband, and then take her into the adjoining hallway, Vader felt confident of the troopers understanding of his orders. System 5-19 was a code name for simply taking a person from a group of prisoners under the pretense that the individual will be injured while interrogated. In reality, the person is really only separated from the group as a means of psychological persuasion for the original group to reveal information out of fear for their separated comrade. Under this system, Sola will merely be carefully watched over—not spoken too, not touched—in another room, frightfully contemplating what is happening to her family. Meanwhile, her mother, father, and husband will worry that she is being subjected to a pain-inducing interrogation. Vader rarely instigated this system. Usually, he'd go ahead and really subject someone to an interrogation, and quickly injure them if they didn't reply.

Darred was falling apart where he stood. Sola screamed for her family all down the hallway, who were yelling curses at the Dark Lord.

"You're a monster, Vader!"

_Yes, yes, I know… You're not the first to call me that._

"You are nothing like Anakin Skywalker!"

His head snapped higher. "YES! And I thank the Force everyday for that fact! The fact that I am no longer that confused being without power!" He rested his clenched fists on his hips. "Now, silence!" He used the Force to slam shut Ruwee, Jobal, and Darred mouths shut. They gave minor, indignant protests, not knowing that they should feel grateful. Anyone else that Vader had ever done that too had resulted with broken jaws.

Vader paced the room as he thought it out himself. _Alright, alright… think. The whole family had gathered to celebrate the Festival of Lights at the rare time of the girls being out of school. Ryoo said that Padmé was able to leave in time to escape the troopers…that meant that Padmé had been here, in this very house, today._ He suddenly cursed his breathing apparatus yet again that day. He wanted to wrench off his damned helmet and breathe in the unmistakable scent of Padmé's perfume, which was undoubtedly still permeating the air. _Alright, now, our attack on the planet had all been a surprise—she had no idea it was coming. As soon as we got here, the fleet set up a blockade around Naboo. I know no ship had gotten through._

He froze in-step. Vader turned to look at Jobal. With a menacing tone of satisfaction, he mumbled, "She's on-planet."

He watched as her eyes closed in silent remorse. Although he hadn't been searching her face for an answer, it nevertheless told him all he needed to know—he was right. After ten years, Vader had the gift of knowing that he was on the same planet as a living, breathing Padmé.

His mother-in-law's voice pierced his thoughts. "Why don't you do what is best for both your sake's—yours _and_ Padmé's—and just leave her alone?"

"Don't try it, Jobal. Your last minute, desperate attempts to keep her away from me won't work."

A determined gleam in her eyes, Mrs. Naberrie replied, "But, so far, you seemed to have survived well enough without her in your life."

In three quick steps, Darth Vader had crossed the room to Jobal. He raised his large arm, preparing to strike down upon her, as he shouted, "You call THIS… _SURVIVING_!"

"_Nooo!_" Ruwee exclaimed frantically.

The frightening second before his clenched fist came crashing down upon the defenseless Jobal, Vader froze. He paused there for several moments, and the room went eerily silent. The tension was so thick it was choking.

Ruwee's startled and confused rumblings pierced the air. "W-Wh—?" _Why. What. Why did Vader stop? What caused him to halt his own hand?_ Ruwee couldn't find the words to ask a Sith Lord what had caused him to not hit his wife.

Surprisingly, it was Jobal who spoke next. Even more surprising was the shockingly calm, almost pleased tone of her voice. "I can answer your question, dear," she said, directing her words to her shaken husband. "I can tell you why Darth Vader didn't strike me just now." As she spoke, she watched with sharp eyes as Vader painstakingly lowered his arm until it was resting, still clenched, at his side. The Dark Lord took about three large steps backwards as Mrs. Naberrie continued, "But first, I'd have to tell you that _we _were wrong. Darth Vader can, and will, kill family. It's a horrible, heart-breaking fact, but it's true. For that matter, we should not underestimate him."

At this, Vader arrogantly lifted his chin a few inches higher.

"But…" Jobal continued, and all ears were focused on her words. "There is one exception… and probably one exception only. Vader will hurt and kill any family… except Padmé's." At this, Ruwee looked upon Vader with unreadable eyes. He knew it to be true.

"And that," Vader's voice rumbled darkly, "makes you the single luckiest family in the entire universe."

After a long pause, Jobal started, "So, Vader knows that Padmé—"

"Would never forgive him for striking her mother," Ruwee finished.

With a pining look at her husband, Jobal replied, "Or her father." She turned to look at the young man standing beside her on her other side. "Or her brother-in-law. Or her sister…" She let the hopeful words carry on for Darred to continue.

"Or," Darred hoarsely croaked out. "Or, Padmé's nieces." His eyes closed in silent thankfulness to the deities. "M-My babies…" He sent a look of longing towards the door leading into the room where Sola was being kept.

"Oh, actually…" Vader began arrogantly.

All eyes shot to look at the dark lord, who stood with his hands clasped behind him.

"Technically, Darred is not family by blood. He's only a Naberrie by name."

This was true. Recognizing the importance of the Naberrie name, after Darred and Sola had married, the couple had decided to break tradition and kept the bride's name. Ruwee's jaw clenched. "You wouldn't dare."

"Don't you presume to tell a Dark Lord what he will and will not do!"

But Ruwee was insistent. "Padmé sees Darred as a brother! She'll never forgive you!"

The Naberrie's would have cringed if they could have seen the twisted grin hidden beneath Vader's grotesque mask. "There are rules in this game. These rules do not apply to everyone. Don't worry; I can sufficiently hurt Darred enough without killing him. Troopers! Take him away!" He continued to shout over the immediate protests, "But by the end, he will feel such things, he will wish he was dead!"

As the troopers grabbed a squirming Darred, a loud, echoing, "_NOOOOOOO!_" was heard following the sound of a door being burst open. Within moments, a red-cheeked, hair-matted Sola Naberrie rushed into the room and flung herself into Darred's arms. "_Noooooo_" she screamed again. "Not Darred! Not the children! I'll tell you where she is! I'll tell you! Just don't hurt anymore of my family!"

Angry, shocked, and frantic, both Jobal and Ruwee rushed to open their mouths and exclaim that a Naberrie needn't fear Vader's wrath, but in a flash, they were elevated three feet off the floor. They clutched at their throats desperately. Their eyes were wide with fear—they needed air to breathe! They needed air to tell Sola the truth!

But their scrambling was in vain.

"Where, Sola?" Vader roared.

She was looking at her parents in horror. "Mom! Father!"

"_SOLA! WHERE?"_

Sola turned her wide eyes to the terrifying advancing black figure.

"_WHERE?_"

Covering her ears and closing her eyes in a futile attempt to block out the sights, the sounds, the guilt, the anguish, the regret, Sola opened her mouth to speak.

"S-she's hiding under the name Anaka Skyler. She's at the old family lakeside retreat at Varykino. Now," she let out a trembling breath, "leave our family alone!"

After several stunned moments of silence, Vader shakily replied, "That's impossible. I've checked Varykino for residency at least once a week for the past ten years. No one lives there."

Sola dropped her eyes. "You mush have checked for guest residency, or for a home owner. Padmé is neither." She raised her eyes, and one could almost make out the mischievous gleam in them—the pride at her younger sisters ingenuity. "Padmé has been living there as the caretaker, who is never in the official records, but is always living there."

Minutes passed. Absently minded, Vader waved his fingers, and Jobal and Ruwee dropped. They were both to hoarse to say anything, so they just laid on the floor, gripping each other as if for dear life. Time stretched on, and only the elder couple's ragged panting and Vader's haunting breathing were heard. Eventually, a mixture of Sola's sobs and Jobal's prayers were added to the errie mixture of sounds.

Finally, Vader replied in shock, with a young, rash, blunt, Anakin Skywalker briefly shining through the darkness and the armor, "You've _got_ to be kidding." The sheer simplicity of it all astounded him.

Padmé had adopted a new name that was merely a deformed version of his former calling.

Padmé was living at their lake retreat...

Padmé was living at the place where they'd shared their first kiss...

Padmé was living at the place where their love had blossomed...

Padmé was living at the place where they'd been married, and where they'd consecrated that marriage countless times...

Padmé was living at their lake retreat...

Padmé…. was living.

* * *

It had been about an hour since Vader had left. After his blatant remark, he'd turned on his heal and left, his cape gliding behind him, silence encasing him like one of his black gloves. The Naberrie's were now under house arrest, trapped in their own home as if it were a gilded cage. 

And still, Sola was trying to convince a miserable Jobal that her actions were justifiable, even if she didn't know at the time that Vader wasn't going to hurt any of them, probably including Darred. "Mom, tell me you understand! Padmé wouldn't have wanted Ryoo or Pooja hurt! She wouldn't have wanted Darred killed! She loves us too much! I knew that!"

Jobal gave her daughter a hard stare. "And I thought we love her too much too betray her!"

Sola stared right back at her mother. For once, the gleam of determination and self-reliance that had more often been seen in Padmé and Jobal's eyes shone like a blazing fire in Sola's brown pools. "Mother, I love you, but you can never ask me too put either one of my daughters in danger, or Darred, for that matter. But don't you dare ever tell me to say or not say something that would result in one of my daughter's being in jeopardy."

Jobal looked at her oldest child with sad eyes. "Then, Sola, you should know how I feel. After all, that is what you asked me to do today. Ryoo and Pooja are to you, want you and Padmé are too me."

The light was immediately extinguished from Sola's eyes. She hadn't looked at their situation like that before. Everything that Sola had just made a big speech about, about resulting to anything to keep a daughter safe… that was what she had asked her own mother to give up that day.

"Oh, Mom… I'm sorry. I'm so very, very…"

"I know, sweetheart, I know…" Jobal sighed heavily. "But if there is anyone out of the three of us—you, me, and Padmé—who knows about sacrificing yourself for your children…" She sighed heavily again, thinking of the two grandchildren, a granddaughter and a grandson, that she will never meet. "Padmé knows more about it than we do."

Sola stood and walked over to her mother. She placed trembling, yet warms hand on her shoulder as she stood behind Jobal's sitting form. She lovingly began to massage her mother's back and shoulders, attempting to release the tension that had built up in the older woman's muscles. "I wonder," Sola replied quietly, "which is worse: dying for your children, or staying alive while you are forever separated from them."

After a long day of crying, when Jobal had thought she was all out of tears, a lone droplet came from her eye. She didn't bother to brush it away as it slid down her cheek. "According to Padmé, living is worse. Remember what she often says, Sola… a heart does not have to stop beating in order to break…. one does not have to stop breathing in order to die."

* * *

**TBC…**

I am so sorry for the delay in the "reply to the reviews"! I've been working a double shift at work-- from 8 AM to 9 PM-- ever since I posted. I've just come home, ate, slept, got up and gone to work. Luckily I had the morning off:-D So, what's the first thing I'm doing... replying!

**Leif of Rohan -** Hello again! If it's as hot in your region of the world as it is in my region, then I can sympathize completely. Thank you for the commments! Yes, I wish Padme had lived... I guess that's what is for:-)

**Seerandgel -** LOL! That's great! I've never been called a piece of bantha poodoo before! Well, I guess I have now! I'm so sorry about the two weeks thing! But I promise I will have the next chapter up ASAP! Thanks again for the... interesting... comments:-)

**Stayingold88 -** Thank you very much! I truly appreciate it!

**BGTom -** Hmmm... I like that idea... :-D Thank you for the comments!

**Kinghearts -** Aw, thank you very much! I am very pleased that you are enjoying the story. I hope you are as happy with what I have stored for Vader in the future!

**LVB -** I can't tell you how flatering it is to hear from _you_ once again! I truly do love and respect your work. Thank you so much for your interest in this story! I hope you enjoy the chapters to come!

**scorpion's muse -** Thank you! I'm sorry! Two weeks was a long time... but I came back! And there will be more story for you to read, I promise!

**eridani -** No case of writer's block this time, I promise! Wow! Thank you for such a long review! I agree with you completely-- the best technique with writer's block is to just start writing. I think that sometimes the best writing is the kind that comes out of using that technique. Great idea!

**scooter5710 -** Thank you! It's great to hear from you!

**starry-eyes184 -** Yay! It's always great to hear from a new fan to the movies! Thank you so much for taking the time to leave such kind remarks!

**Niraha Skywalker -** Wow:-D Thank you very much! Very flattering! I hope you enjoy the chapters to come!

**orliNKeira -** "finally!"? Lol, what it that long of a wait? I'm sorry! I am glad that you liked the chapter! It's wonderful to hear from you again, as always! Hahaha, I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying:-) Thanks again for the review!

**Doreen -** Thank you! I look forward to writing more of the story for you to enjoy. ;-)

**J.E.A.R.K.Potter -** Hello there! Thank you for reviewing once again! I truly appreciate it. Thank you, yes-- I had so much fun on my trip! It was great! "where ever I am going"? Ah, I might as well just say that I went to Corpus Christi, TX.

**dragonsdaughter1 -** LOL! He certainly deserves it, eh? Hmmm... now _that's_ an idea... ;)

**jl2asnoopy -** Thank you very much! I hope that you continue to enjoy the rest of the story as well. I loved reading what you like about the story, and you're kind compliments made me blush! Thank you!

**Jenny Storwens -** Thank you! It was very interesting to read your comment about the summary. I know that mostly the summary either makes or breaks a story, so it's a great relief that you liked it! Oh, trust me, _this story is going to be completed._ This is my second time around posting this story, and **second time's** the charm! Thank you so much for your interest!

**Serina Tsuki -** Thanks for the comments!I really appreciate it:-D

**Snow Lepord -** _falls off chair_ My goodness! That was such a flattering review! Every line had me blushing more and more. You truly brightened up my day. :-D I really am so happy that you like this story so much! It makes it even more joyful for me to write it! THANK _YOU!_

**MeyaRose -** I was great to hear from you! Haven't heard from ya in a while... I guess I haven't updated Star Wars fic in a while. ;-)


	7. Across the Stars

**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Across the Stars**

His heart had not pounded this furiously since that day in the Nubian palace throne room, the day that he'd unleashed his rage and grief on those still alive when he'd learned that his wife and child had passed into a world that he could not follow. Each pound of his unsteady heart seemed ready to burst it through his chest and his mechanical breast plate.

"_Yomané_," Vader seethed angrily. The handmaiden, however cleverly, had lied to him. She had lied straight to his glaring face. Now, it was no wonder why the rest of the Nubians in the room had remained silent so submissively when she had begun to unveil her fable of Amidala's fate to him. They must have picked up early on that she wasn't telling anything near the truth. And he, being the emotional wreck that he was at the time, had drunk up her information thirstily. He had been so starved for any news about what had become of his dear wife that he actually never thought to question Yomané's story.

Ten years—_ten_ years had been lost, all due to his mistake. Lord Vader knew for a fact that she wasn't on Naboo at that time when he had been. He had scoured everywhere on that planet— every cottage, every village, every town, and every city. Where had she been? Where had she gone after she'd been taken from Coruscant by Kenobi? Why hadn't he _felt_ her living presence all these years?

He would soon have his answer.

Presently, Darth Vader and his 12th squadron were cruising hastily through Naboo's skyline, intent on one destination—Varykino. And Darth Vader, as reluctantly forced as the thoughts were, could only think of three other days in his life when he had been this nervous. The first time was the afternoon elevator ride before he was reunited with the then _Senator_ Amidala, who he'd still thought of as his rosy Padmé—Obi Wan's comment about being "a little on edge" was the understatement of the year, which was yet another example for Vader that Kenobi never really understood him. The other time was his wedding day, the sunset evening when Padmé had taken his name— had become a Skywalker. His expected fears about being a good husband for her had been magnified times ten by the problems, oaths, politics, and other dramas that screamed reasons at them of why their union should not take place. The final day when he'd been this nervous—a day that he now scoffs at—was the final day of his Jedi trials. Lord Vader did not ponder that date very much.

_What will Padmé think when she sees me in my monstrous suit? Will her kind spirit that I remember shine through and she won't put bad judgment on me? Will she keep turning away, and refuse to even look at me?_ No, that possibility would never come true, he would make sure of it. He would _make _her look at him._ But... when she speaks… oh, Force, what will the very sound of her voice do to me? _To hear those sweet Nubian inflections interwoven into that melodious voice… he feared that it would be his undoing. He was terrified of the emotions he would feel if she spoke his former name that he'd renounced. It was bad enough that she'd taken on the name Anaka Skyler—it was much too close for comfort. But, what if she said it… the name that he'd grown up with… the name that had been his very being? Or, even worse… what if she said the _nickname_ that he had only allowed two people in the universe to call him by... the name that his lover, and his mother, had tenderly called him by?

However, as basic as it was, Darth Vader felt most anxious at the mere, yet gigantic prospect of simply seeing the living form of Padmé Amidala. He had told himself, after he'd learned of her "death", that he would never go in search of her grave. The site of her dead form would have been too much for the dark lord to handle. She had always been his greatest weakness. However, now, the idea of a living wife was more emotional, more terrifying then coming across a memorial.

And her _eyes_… those deep pools of brown and auburn…

A low growl of rage rumbled in the back of Lord Vader's throat, and the startled men around him took a few cautionary steps away from his black form.

He was acting like a love-struck school boy! He was unraveling himself with mere _thoughts_ of her—he hadn't even seen her yet, and already he was falling apart! He was Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith… who was he to muse about 'deep pools of brown and auburn'? He had to reign in these dangerous emotions, seal them in a cart, and toss it into a black hole of space. He had to regain control somehow…

His tense posture relaxed somewhat as he sneered a little beneath his mask.

Well, perhaps he could control some aspects of her appearance, especially those dangerously sentimental eyes of hers…

"Captain!" he exclaimed, and he immediately heard the hustle of men clearing a pathway for their other leader to make his appearance to Vader.

Within moments, Captain Tistle had saluted his superior and awaited his orders by Vader's side.

"I need you to carry out an order as civilly and gently as you possibly can."

Captain Tistle was sure that he hadn't heard the demonic figure correctly. "Pardon me, sir?"

"You heard me, Captain. Don't get me wrong—I expect this order to be carried out just as firmly and thoroughly as any other."

A brisk nod was the first sign of understanding from the captain. "Absolutely, Lord Vader. Whatever you say shall be accomplished."

"I know," Vader replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest in imitation. _This_ is where he felt power. _These_ were the threatening moments when he felt in absolute control. "There's no need to state the obvious. Our coordinates will take us to a lodge on one of the lakes. You have no doubt already figured out that we are headed to the lake country. When we get to this lodge, the _utmost_ care will be taken with the property." His extremely tense voice and stance left no room for the Captain to think otherwise of his orders. "There will be no damage to the land or the building. Tell the men that they can consider their lives lost if a single flower is stepped on."

Captain Tistle swallowed. He had _never_, in his ten years of working with the dark lord, heard such orders be given by Darth Vader. Several moments passed, and Tistle dared to ask, "Is that the order that you were specific about, my lord?"

"No, Captain," Vader continued. "There is something at this lodge that will be handled with the most care above all the rest—something very precious."

"And what would this thing be, my lord?"

"A woman."

Now Captain Tistle was sure that he had heard wrong. There was no possible way that Lord Vader had just said—

"She is not to be treated as a captive, do I make myself clear? Yes, she is under my jurisdiction, but she is not to be touched or threatened. Tell the troopers that I'll make sure they feel torture worse than they can imagine before death if a single one of them either places a finger on her or raises their blaster to her. If they so much as idly point their blasters in her general direction…" Vader paused suddenly, as if the fire inside prevented him from finishing his threat, and the captain watched his fists clench into tight balls. "If, and it better not, but if the situation arises where she needs to be touched, you, and _only _you, will do so." He took two several steps towards Captain Tistle. The other man stared up into the devilish mask towering above him. "Don't let that kind of situation arise, Tistle."

Struggling to keep his voice from quivering, Captain Tistle answered, "Yes, my lord. I will do as you order."

"Further, Captain, you will tell her to wear a transparent scarf around her eyes—one that she can see through, obviously. Once this action has been accomplished, communicate with me, and I will leave the ship to come to her. Once I arrive at her location on the lodge, we are to be left alone."

Trying to think logically with Vader's breathing ringing in his ears, Tistle asked, "But, my lord, what if she has no such scarf that is transparent?"

"I know this woman. She'll have enough dresses and accessories to dress a small planet." It was a crude remark; one that he knew was most likely not true anymore. Since the dawning days of the Empire, fashion had been thrown out, along with other luxuries, even on Naboo. The likelihood of a stowaway caretaker, someone trying to keep their true identity a secret, having an elaborate wardrobe that matched the one she kept in the old days was very small.

"It shall be done, my lord."

"I want you to understand something, Captain. Her eyes should not, in any way, be clearly visible. Find a suitable scarf, Tistle," he paused, "or be ready to find another career choice."

"My lord?"

_Oh, no_... The moment that Darth Vader had been both anticipating and dreading for the past half hour had come. He had been waiting—_hiding?_—out in his shuttle while half of the 12th squadron and Captain Thistle had secured the area… and the caretaker.

Now, just like Vader had ordered him to, Captain Tistle was notifying him over the comlink that Darth Vader could step off the shuttle and onto the land. He was calling to tell him that 'the precious woman' was in position to be spoken too.

The Sith lord's nerves were frantic. He had to force his shaking hand to push the button as he activated his end of the communication line.

"Go ahead, Captain."

"My lord, the woman is in position for your arrival. She is at the balustrade overlooking the south end of the lake. It faces the island in the middle of the lake, sir."

Vader swallowed. He knew exactly where Tistle was talking about the moment the captain had said 'balustrade'.

"And is the scarf in place?"

"Yes, my lord. She complied with our request very generously. There was no struggle, either verbally or physically, at all."

Vader wanted to ask so many questions at once. _What does she look like now? Is she crying? Does she appear pleased? Why didn't she struggle? Has she said anything? Does she know who's here?_

"Very well. I will be there momentarily. Clear the men as soon as I'm in sight."

The walk to the exit door of the shuttle took much less time than Vader liked. Yet, suddenly, in the two seconds that the door took to open, a sudden urge that Vader had not experienced yet washed over him. He wanted to see Padmé. He _needed_ to see Padmé. He couldn't wait another moment to be with his wife. He wanted to dash to her side as quickly as his feet could carry him. But his rush of new feelings as his trepidation subsided was veered as the door completely lifted.

There was a reason why Vader had avoided looking out the port holes before now. However, now he could not blind himself to not see the familiar landscape that stretched out before him. 'Beauty' did not describe the sight, did not do it justice. The lodge beamed in the sunlight, the tiles on the roof reflecting brilliantly. The rainbow of endless flowers sighed on the wind in their rich soil. The leaves on the trees and the flowers blooming on the branches still took his breath away. The surrounding water sparkled like a thousand jewels beneath the surface.

This, he knew, was something that even Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, could stare in awe of. This was something he could never destroy.

And as the breeze billowed his black cape, it brought with it memories that washed over him in dozens of waves. Every place, every spot had a memory connected with it—a memory filled with love and happy times.

This was the last place he had called _home_.

He was so caught up in his reverie, that for several moments, he forgot his purpose at this sentimental paradise. Then, inevitably, he remembered why he was here.

His heart started pounded heavily again as he did something he hadn't tried in ten years… he opened himself up to the Force signature of his wife.

He could have fallen to his knees right then and there. He felt her heart beat as if it were his own, and he could taste the sweet, rosy air as he breathed with her. For a brief second, his essence combined with her physical one for the first time in over a decade. For too short of a moment, he felt a connection with her that matched the one they had shared so long ago— the evening on Coruscant when he had stood looking at her apartment from the Jedi Council room, and she had stood in their living room gazing towards him.

However, the intense connection lasted only a second before someone was overcome that they had to shut it off. He wasn't sure if it was him or her, but one thing was for certain: if she had any doubt before over who had come to seize her and speak to her, she knew now. In their intense, but brief relation, he had felt her weakness, her strength, and her recognition.

His legs carried him to the south end of the lodge without him knowing it. Before long, he was slowly walking up the final path before the corner that would show him the banister. His black form treaded slowly through the rose paradise.

On both sides of him, flowers moved swiftly as he moved beyond them. At first they seemed to bustle, as if unsure whether or not they should wilt as he passed. Yet, after another moment of hesitation, they seemed to sigh in recognition and content finality.

He rounded the corner, swallowing hard as he did so.

There was a figure dressed in blue—the blue of the water—standing in the middle of the balustrade.

It was the same place where he had exchanged wedding vows with that figure thirteen years before. The figure, a petite woman, had—_still _had—a flowing cascade of chestnut curls that fell down her back and over her shoulders. Her water-blue silk gown lay in a puddle around her feet. As the wind blew faintly, it softly rustled a few curls of hair that danced playfully in the breeze. All of these details became clearer as he continued his steps. For the first time in a while, he felt a thankful thought in regards to his mask—five years before, he'd had the lenses of his mask modified so that everything would not be basked in a red light. He saw all colors as clearly and vividly as anyone.

_Oh Force, the closer I get to her, the worse it gets_. He was within feet of Padmé. _I'm with her_. _I can't breathe…_

He stopped ten feet away from her. He couldn't go any farther. The troopers had long since departed, and he was alone with his wife for the first time in years. The wind sang through the trees, its melody the theme song to the husband and wife's reunion.

After several unbearably long minutes, it was Padmé who finally spoke. She sounded calm and angelic. He had yearned for ten years to hear that voice again…

"Well, I assume you're not here to rent the lodge out for the weekend."

* * *

**TBC...**

* * *

UPDATE /Author's Note: 

I'm posting this because I am also posting this story on the message boards of another site, and over there I posted this just to clarify... so I thought I'd add it here, too! I hope this helps with any misunderstandings...

Vader asked for a transparent _(able to see through)_ scarf, because he _does _want her to be able to see him. This is their reunion, not a trick. Plus, remember-- he felt that intense connection with her a few minutes before he saw her...

_He wasn't sure if it was him or her, but one thing was for certain: if she had any doubt before over who had come to seize her and speak to her,** she knew now**. In their intense, but brief relation, he had felt her weakness, her strength, and **her recognition**. _  
She knows exactly who's knocking on the door.

Vader got the scarf because he's worried about the effect looking directly into her eyes will have on him. A popular saying is "Eyes are the windows to the soul". She's still his greatest weakness. He's terrified of how vulnerable she makes him feel. He feels like he can have some control over the emotional situation if the appearance of her eyes is somewhat distorted-- hence the request for the scarf. It's all in a vain attempt to sheild off the powerful effect she still has on him.

You've got to think that this guy spent years looking at her lovingly and being looked at by her lovingly _through those eyes_. It's very intimate for him. I'm kinda making it so that his favorite physical characteristic of her's is her eyes, and he's not ready yet to face them yet. They are the most 'Padmé' physical characteristic about her, and therefore the most likely to evoke 'Anakin' emotions in Vader.

* * *

**Jokerisdaking - **Thank you for the very kind comments! I've become a bigger fan of the Naberrie's just through writing this story, so I promise I will try to incorporate them into the story later. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so much! I hope that you enjoyed this one (chapter 7) just as much. 

**BGTom - **Or... they do! They do reunite. :-)

**Niraha Skywalker -** Thank you! I REALLY appreciate it! ;-)

**eternalhope08 - **I completely agree-- Anakin is VERY hot. And I'm not talking about the kind of hot that he got while roasting like a marshmallow by the lava. I mean VERY cute hot! ;-) Actually, I've been going back and forth about making it a happy ending or not. I honestly don't know what to do. One way will make it an AU, the other way will actually make it flow along with the orginal trilogy movies seemlessly. I guess I better make my decistion pretty quick. :-)

**Leif of Rohan - **Thank you for reviewing again! It's always great to hear from you, and the other repeat reviewers. I always look forward to reading you all'sperspectives on the chapters. Thank you for such a generous review!

**LVB - **Thank you! I had lots of fun on my time off-- and I got plenty of story ideas while I was away. Eh, but it's too bad when you finally get a flood of ideas, and you can't write them up! I didn't have a computer! lol! Thanks again for the review! I'm glad you like Sola's reaction!

**anonymous -** lol, I think this may have been the biggest cliff hanger of the story so far, so I'm glad that you like being left in suspense! Thank you very much for your review!

**Snow Lepord - **Awww, shucks! Thank you again! I really appreciate you continuously reviewing. Your remarks are always great to read. Thank you for taking the time:-)

**eridani -** Hello! And this greeting is coming from both "Rose-Arwen-Padme" and "Aristo-nobi". lol! Thank you so very much for your review. I feel honored, andI loved reading what you had to say.That'Anakin coming through' moment("You've _got_ to be kidding") is actually probably my favorite line in that entire chapter, so I'm very glad that you liked it and mentioned it!Yes, there will be about two or three more chapters. I haven't quite decided how I want this to end.

**scooter5710 - **Awesome! There's more wickedness to come, I promise. :-)

**J.E.A.R.K.Potter - **Hi there! _wink_ Nah, I bet the name doesn't sound familiar at all. _wink _Yay! I'm glad that you liked that line! I had to work for a while at wording it just right, so I'm glad to hear that you were pleased with it!

**Ani-maniac -**Hello there! (just like with eridani above, this greeting is coming from both "Rose-Arwen-Padme" and "Aristo-nobi"_ wink_) I'm so pleased that you are enjoying this story! Thank you very much for your interest and support. I hope you like the rest of the story that is to come!

**MeyaRose - **Lol! So do you!

**HotaruFireFly55 - **Thank you very much for such flattering remarks. I take the time to say thank you individually because I really do appreciate you taking the time to leave reviews. Truly, thank you very much. :-)

**Chou hime -** Yay! I'm very pleased that you think the plot is original. I'd rather dish out _1 _original piece a year than _15_ 'redone plot line' pieces. The length! YAY! This chapter (#7) I think is the longest one yet. It's 6 pages on Microsoft Word. I hope you liked it too!

**baby blonde -** Awww, thank you very much! That is a very sweet compliment. I hope you like the rest of the story!


	8. Across the Stars Pt 2

**_A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm_**

_By Rose-Arwen-Padmé_

_Across the Stars Pt. 2_

There's dirt beneath my fingernails. It's been there for a long time, but I am still unaccustomed to such a presence making home in my once dainty fingers. However, I've had a while to adjust to the abrupt change from a Galactic Senator to lodge caretaker… from a happy, pregnant wife to a dull warden with an empty womb.

I have a day off today, since no one is renting out Varykino. There is no luggage to haul up the stairs, no boats that need polishing, and no dinnerware to be washed. On this rare week, I am free to play with my memories. I can walk barefoot on the beach without worrying about keeping to a strict schedule. I can walk through the bedrooms that a caretaker usually wouldn't when guests occupied them. However, there is one bedroom in particular that I always make a point to avoid. Oh yes, I've had the bed changed since my marital days—everything, from the sheets, the mattresses, and the headboard, was taken out long ago. Still, I cannot spend very long in there, and I only approach it if I absolutely have to. It is the last bedroom out of the five here that I will rent out. I tend to fill up the other bedrooms first. If I absolutely have to rent it, I will only rent the room to children or a single adult. No married couples will have the opportunity to make themselves more at leisure in between those sheets. It's a sentimentality that both drives me insane and keeps me focused.

_It's **our** room._

Sometimes I wonder how the guests are immune to it. How can they not feel the weight of doomed love that sinks into everything of that room? How can they breathe in the air without sensing the wake of such a strong presence that felt passionate feelings, and made his wife feel such passionate feelings, in that room?

I laugh at myself once again, bitterly. I realize that I've been thinking in a stiff, political voice about romantic ideals, and I muse whether or not a day will come when my past will desert my behavior patterns and leave me alone.

A leaf flies into my lap and I idly pick it up with my soiled fingers. It's no surprise for leaves to be falling like soft tears around me. After all, I _am_ sitting underneath one of the large trees here, on one of the patios. The sitting chair is a faded white and the steel is formed into an intricate design. The glass table next to me needs cleaning sometime today or tomorrow… if tomorrow ever comes.

Late this morning, I saw massive ships enter orbit to the far west. They were positioning themselves over the large city of Delva, which is over a hundred standard miles from here. Even though they were so far away, the unmistakable sight of distinct star ships on the Naboo skyline was visible. Only one _organization_ has vessels so big.

They were Imperial Star Ships… Super Star Destroyers.

I unintentionally rip half of the leaf in my grasp.

And they haven't left the orbit yet.

I shouldn't worry, though, right? Obi Wan taught me those presence shield techniques so long ago, but I still recall them with great clarity. No one… _important_, no one with _distinct Force abilities_ who might be sensitive to my particular presence could sense me. Even if he—if _some one_ did come to Naboo—

_—**please** don't let it be him—_

they wouldn't, couldn't know I was here. Ten years of practicing to hide my signature in the Force has assured me, and Obi Wan, of that fact.

I look down to my right hand, expecting to see the large, fragile, slightly ripped leaf resting there. Instead, my hand is clenched tightly, so much so that my knuckles are white. I open my palm hesitantly, afraid of what I might see. The leaf is no longer distinguishable as a leaf. There are merely crumbs, fragments, miniscule details of something that was once whole lying in my hand. It is shattered. The brisk wind quickly scoops up the battered pieces and blows them away, out of my grasp.

I hadn't been aware of it—of my hand clenching, crumbing the structure of the leaf. I had no power over it, no control. It was as if my right hand had been alien to my body, a mechanical extension.

Just like Anakin's.

I shake my head and stand up. I need a change of environment. I need to go back inside and pour myself a glass of Redwen. Most importantly, I need to stop my metaphorical, dramatic daydreaming.

I wasn't supposed to spend today here, and I don't treasure the opportunity. The chance occasion of the Festival of Lights happening at the same time as an empty lodge roster, mixed together with my unbearable longing for family, gave birth to a trip to my dear family's house. I saw my nieces today. I saw my brother-in-law and my sister. I saw my loving parents, and however briefly, they saw me. We hadn't had face-to-face contact in over a year, despite the fact that, while Varykino is 9,000 standard miles away from Theed, I live on the same planet as they do.

I arrived in Theed early this morning, veiled by the cover of the twilight morning darkness and my heavy cloak. I was to spend one happy, blissful day around the only family that I was in reach of. Eleven years ago, since my Jedi husband was not family by blood, I could have said that I attended a complete Naberrie clan reunion. Now, however, there are members of the bloodline missing— two members. Seeing my sister's two children—daughters with long, flowing brown hair—caused me deep pain that reverberated within the caverns of my heart.

Then, barely two hours after I'd arrived, news came of dozens of ships coming out of hyperspace just outside of Naboo's atmosphere. Their arrival was not anticipated—the whole motion was a surprise. At that time, I didn't know their size, their class, their division. I didn't even know whether or not they were ships of the Empire. All the same, just in case, I desperately rushed to leave my family and return to Varykino. While leaving the city in my speeder, I flew by the grand Public Awareness Board of Theed, which, located high in Theed Sqaure, keeps citizens aware of current news bulletins. It was flashing in red letters for the people of Theed to hurry home, and to not delay. My heart had sunk when I also read that a blockade had been set up around our planet.

_No, not another blockade… may the Force be with the Queen…_

My transport, my own customized, covered speeder, sailed across the thousands of miles of land within three hours. It is completely unprecedented for that model to go that rapidly. Its speed is unmatched on Naboo, even though nobody else knows about it outside of me and my family. It soars as fast as a pod racer, although only one person has ever accelerated my machine to that maximum speed… and he hasn't driven it in ten years. My husband 'fiddled with it', and later taught me those mechanics. I know enough about the engineering to have kept it in good working form over the years. I never thought I'd use it to outrun an Imperial invasion stretching across Naboo.

Less than thirty minutes after arriving at the lodge, I saw the Imperial ships hovering over Delva. The Imperial presence is spreading like a plague over Naboo. So, what do I do as I await their inevitable arrival here?

I sit leisurely on the patio, mythical and remorsefully daydreaming, and then I come inside to pour myself a small glass of my favorite alcoholic drink—Redwen.

I'm merely biding my time. There's no reason to get rallied up and stressed over my own well-being—certainly not when I have the rest of my fellow citizens of my home world to worry about and pray for presently. If the Imperials decide to check out a lavish lodge on the bank of the lake, then so be it, and I will deal with them when they come. I have no one to live for, really. It's a dramatically morbid statement, one that my family wouldn't appreciate at all, to say the least, but I know that it's true.

I never was one to stand down from a fight—verbal or blaster-fire— and there is an unmistakable familiar weight in the air that tells me _something_ **_is_** coming. The Force, though I damn it everyday, is whispering warnings and hints into my ear fleetingly.

Inside my chest, a wisp of smoke that used to be a burning flame is growing once again. I don't need a mirror to know that the gleam of old determination is slowly, but surely, returning in my eyes. I am not prideful, at least I try not to be, but I know that whatever troopers stumble across this place will find no average caretaker of the Varykino lodge.

I wasn't elected as Queen, chosen as Senator, and married to a Jedi Knight for nothing.

Besides… being a woman who gave up her children and is still able to breathe and have a heartbeat doesn't exactly detract from my strength of character, I believe.

* * *

_I must be strong for them_. 

I'm back to sitting in a chair on my patio. Logic won over my yearning to satisfy my thirst for debate, and so I reluctantly decided to play dumb with the Imperials; that decision is losing ground quickly. These troopers, exceptionally the approaching officer, are acting as if they meant to come to this specific location. My scattered years of militant observation lead me to believe that this was no random site that they chose to investigate.

They are taking great care not to come very close to me, much less to touch me. If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought I was living a memory of the large security detail that followed me around outside of the palace after the horror of the blockade so many years before, when I was Queen. Of course, I never dressed my security in uniforms that involved hard white armor contrasting against obvious, black, bulky blaster rifles.

Their caution to not to even _bother _me, and their great care of the landscape of my home makes me uneasy. There is a sense of protectiveness towards me that I can pick up on, and I don't presume that it's coming directly from the troopers themselves. They are obeying the strict orders of a higher rank. I don't want to think of who in the Imperial Army would be so protective of me and Varykino.

It's as if they know who I am… _or who I am to someone else_.

I can only hope and pray with all my heart that my family was not involved.

The officer, who I had noticed earlier had started off in a direct line for me from around the bend, had made his way to stand a few feet in front of me.

I don't like his voice. It's not the tone… it's the raspy sound itself, as if he's never quite getting enough air to speak. Perhaps his Lord has temporarily choked him too many times. I listen to the Holo-net. I know that he's capable of it. "It's strange to see such a lady slaving as a lodge caretaker. You don't appear to be the sort of person to be suited for the job."

_It's an odd statement to start off a conversation. Hmmmm… be careful, Imperial. _

I smile too pleasantly at him. "Good afternoon. I don't think you'll want your superior to hear your thoughts of women that he knows _slaving_ anywhere. It may be a touchy subject." His face tightens in subtle confusion. He's startled by my opening remarks. Good. "Just a hunch." While taking on a somewhat lighter demeanor, I wave my hand in the direction of my cup. "Would you like a glass of Redwen, _officer_…?" I leave the sentence trailing, making a point to be asking for his rank. I want to know what status of a man I am dealing with.

"Captain. Captain Tistle, and no, I don't."

"Captain Tistle, it's interesting to meet you." I won't say that it's a pleasure to meet him, because it's not. I don't want to be around any Imperial militant dimwits. I have no evidence to show that this man is a dimwit… but that's not the point.

He folds his hands behind his back. "And you are?"

Ah, so Ani hasn't told him yet who he has tracked. This captain's curiosity may be misplaced, in the opinion of his commander.

My somewhat mischievous smile appears again. "Once upon a time, I was an angel."

_And a daughter.__ And a fiancé. And a wife. And, even, a mother._

I've thrown the officer once again. I suppose I'm not what he expected! "Excuse me?'

"Anaka Skyler."

"Apparently, you have not met with a militant, a politician, or a militant politician before, Skyler."

Oh, how I want to laugh!

My smile does not fade. "I am well versed in political pleasantries, Captain. You, obviously, are not."

"Make no mistake, Madam, you are under our control."

A small smile stretches my lips. "Then why am I sitting at my patio table, sipping from my own glass of Redwen?"

The captain makes a sudden move that is suppressed before it even begins. I get the feeling that he'd wanted to strike out and swat the glass from my hand, but something—_fear of his commander?_—held him back.

I raise a single eye brow in amusement. I am enjoying this game.

All the same, my heart isn't forgetting who brought this officer before me. I continually fight the urge to dart my eyes in different directions in search of another, much more intimidating figure.

"Why don't we skip the chit chat and jump straight to why you are here, Captain?"

A forced smile is my first reply from Tistle. "I see we think alike. Very well, Skyler. My superior, Lord Vader—"

I want to drop my glass, but I don't even stir. This nightmare is real. I'm not going to wake up.

"—has expressed an interest in meeting you. Using his exact words, you are under his 'jurisdiction'."

My thoughts drift to the person these words are being reported from.

_Oh, he has **no** idea… I've never **not** been under his 'jurisdiction' since he first looked at me with those blue eyes in Watto's shop. Did he ever release me? I think not! He's a wizard who casts spells, like those mythical characters in my childhood story books…_

"He demands an audience with you immediately."

Demands? Ani never _demanded _anything of _me_. 'Demands' is such an unsympathetic word— brutal and harsh, like the word 'childless'.

"Well, then, there's only one thing I can do at a time like this," I say seriously. The tall man looks at me with a perplexed frown. "Change clothes."

* * *

There's only one real gown that I still own. My mother delivered it to me two years ago as a gift on my birthday. I had not wanted to accept it, saying that it was too fine of a thing for me now, and I would have no occasion to ever wear it. However, in her quite stubborn way, she had insisted. She had spent several months working the creation of the gown—'a work of love', she'd called it— and in the end I couldn't refuse her. 

Now, I see it as the only thing majestic enough to suit this situation… this twisted reunion. I don't want him to see me in my soiled, meager caretaker clothes.

The elaborate gown is bluish-green. It is a shifting turquoise that reminds me of the surrounding lakes and rivers, as it is not made up of one, two, or even three specific colors. I call it my "water gown". The neckline, including a wide flat collar, is modest and elegant. The sleeves drape an inch past my wrists, while my feet are completely covered. Thousands of sequins line the dress. My official symbol that I used as queen and as senator is visible in the fabric at the waistline—yet another reason why I could never have worn it in public. There is a sapphire jewel at the neckline that will reflect the sunlight. It is a heavy gown, both simple and extravagant, and certainly worthy of any senator's closest.

I used to only wear it around the lodge when no other guests held vacancy, when my reminiscing reached its peaks. Although, I usually collapsed in this garment in a torrent of tears in some hallway or in our old bedroom. Memories are not a comfort; they are merely a brief escape before they cruelly plummet me back into reality, and they are so very addicting.

Reality—that's what today is.

There's a very tiny canister hidden behind a panel of a desk in the next room. Its contents of poison would do the job painlessly and quickly. I could get in there, find it, swallow, and let the toxin do its job long before they would think to come look for me.

Sighing, I gather my skirt and begin walking shakily out the door, past the room holding a liquid escape, and towards the hallway that will lead me to the main balustrade. I've avoided killing myself for ten years. No point in doing it in the next ten minutes just because I'm about to be reunited with my estranged husband. Besides, it's not my style, not the style of the high and mighty Padmé Amidala. Sometimes I feels as if the Force, that mystical energy, has enough personality to laugh at me and mock me. Why does it lift people so high in life, only to have their fall be that much greater and more drastic?

_My children… I must be strong for them_.

Captain Tistle is there, as expected, when I emerge from the house. Once again, dressed in gowns that the galaxy doesn't see anymore, I am not what he predicted. I am a lady through and through—the type of lady that he is not accustomed to dealing with.

I move my loose hair out of my eyes as a few stray curls blow in the breeze. The wind has strengthened around Varykino.

The officer wastes no time after he overcomes his initial shock at the sight of me.

"Lord Vader requests that you wear a transparent scarf over your eyes, Madam. The scarf should enable you to see through, but the appearance of your eyes must be distorted. He is very adamant about this request."

"Oh, his is, is he?"

The Imperial officer's feet shuffle under my gaze. "Yes, milady."

"Well then, I best comply with his wishes."

I fetch a yard of material from a nearby cabinet indoors. It's not really a scarf, but it is transparent, and it will satisfy the officer. I'll make sure it won't have the chance to satisfy Lord Vader. I'm going to take it off before he sees me. Ridiculous request, Ani…

I do not need assistance as I wrap the material around my head in line with my eyes.

A low, loving voice from long ago caresses me from my memory.

_Padmé… I can look into your eyes until the end of time. I don't care if that sounds ridiculous… it's the truth. Your eyes unlock my heart._

Apparently, Lord Vader doesn't want the heart of Anakin Skywalker to be unlocked. Nicely done, Vader. Too bad I have to disappoint you.

"Is this adequate with your lord's demands?" I ask Captain Tistle.

He nods briskly. "That will do."

I enjoy playing with the soldiers. I, Padmé Amidala, haven't had a single enemy to face down in over ten years. For the first twenty-seven years of my life, I battled everything— from Apprentice Legislative counselors to two Chancellors of the Republic, and even a Nexu. Then, suddenly, there was nothing. No one. My face to face interactions had dwindled to the seasonal renters of the elite aristocratic classes of distant planets. This wasn't a usual pattern to a person who'd been accustomed to debating since she was nine years old.

I see him reach for his com link from his utility belt. He activates it and speaks clearly. "My lord?" I begin to pale immediately.

_Oh Force…_ I want to cover my ears! I don't want to—_I can't_—hear the voice that is about to answer over that damn communicator!

I hold my breath, dreading the inevitable.

_I must be strong for them_.

"Go ahead, Captain."

My feet want to give way beneath me, but my legs aren't listening. They're in a trance, like the rest of my upper body, listening to the distorted voice of a man I once swore to love, not only until the day I died, but past that, into the sands of time.

"My lord, the woman is in position for your arrival. She is at the balustrade overlooking the south end of the lake. It faces the island in the middle of the lake, sir."

_Do you remember, Anakin? It's where you first kissed me. It's where we said our wedding vows. We even made love out here, once upon a time. You brought out a thick, red blanket. It was night. I undressed you slowly… you began kissing my bare shoulders… _

"And is the scarf in place?"

_Ah, yes, I remember that too… You wanted me to feel the sensation of a silk scarf running up and down my body. You were so intimate, so gentle… _

"Yes, my lord. She complied with our request very generously. There was no struggle, either verbally or physically, at all."

_I don't think you remember that night anymore._

It is several moments before the unstable voice continues.

"Very well. I will be there momentarily. Clear the men as soon as I'm in sight."

Privacy—he is granting us privacy. I feel gratitude towards him for the first time today.

I don't really pay attention as the officer and the troopers gather to await the arrival of Lord Vader, which will be their cue to depart for the ship. Through the trailing of the wind, I hear the captain's baffled voice as he speaks quickly to his attendant.

"Only one other person I've met has a stare as strong as hers, and _his_ is so tough that it penetrates his mask!"

The smallest of smiles crosses my face—_so I haven't lost my touch_—, until I hear more of their conversation.

The attendant asked, "Well, what about the Emperor? Have you ever met him? Bet he would be a sour one to look at."

The smile drops of the mere mention of that back-stabbing, wicked, disgust of a man.

_I must be strong for them_.

"No," Captain Tistle replies on a sigh. "I came close once, but never actually…" Their voices fade away as they walk further from me, and my arena of sound returns to simply the wind, the birds, and the water cascading on the rocks below. They are still in sight, which means Vader is not within sight ye—

The tidal wave of sensations hits me like nothing I have felt in ten years. A connection that I had long wondered if lost is reopened. Obi Wan had trained me to effectively and subconsciously hide my signature from Anakin's acute Force ability, no matter the proximity. However, we'd never been able to accomplish the task of severing the unique link of our unprecedented love. It was a bond that the Jedi did not comprehend, and Obi Wan, in his great teachings, spoke nothing of it. In truth, we didn't even think to try.

Ani may be the Chosen One, and that may be one factor of its existence, but Anakin used to whisper to me at night whenever he was in his most loving moods that it was because we were two halves of the same soul. _It_ had explained why he could feel what I was feeling while he was away during the Clone Wars and vise versa. _It_ was why we finished each others sentences in the strangest of ways. _It_ was why—not the Force. Anakin had said it was a connection that he had never shared with any other Jed, and I believed him, because I felt it too.

I feel it again now.

I sense him, and I feel him sensing me! His essence floods through me, filling me. I can feel his desperation, his arrogance, his unstableness. Do I feel love? _Is that love?_

Before I can search any further, the link is cut off, and it was _not_ done by me.

I slowly become aware that my eyes are closed and I am breathing heavily. Unsteady, I open my eyes against the scratchy scarf. The troopers and Tistle are gone. I'm alone.

I was never intent on wearing the scarf for Vader. I had decided to take it off the moment the soldiers left, which, obviously, is my current opportunity. Within seconds, the scarf is lying on the ground, discarded.

I want to see my husband… I'm terrified of seeing him… What will he say? How will he react to what I say?… Can he be changed?…

I remind myself that the troopers are gone, which means that I will be face to face with _him _within moments. Ten years of waiting and dreading and hoping and praying and crying and moaning and avoiding have let to this moment. I have to turn my back. The sight of his figure approaching… I'm not sure how I could handle it.

I face the water, and I realize that it's something I should have done in the first place. The view from Varykino has always brought me peace, and it doesn't fail me today. As I overlook the lake, I feel my breathing return to normal. The island that I used to swim to daily as a little girl winks at me from offshore. The boats below rock in the dock as the current moves them. My heartbeat is regular, and I am calm.

It's perfect timing, because I begin to sense that presence again, this time due to proximity. Then, I hear footsteps—heavy, slow footsteps. The walker is in no hurry to come closer.

The footsteps stop several feet behind me. A black shadow is falling to my left. As it is situated against the banister, it gives the illusion that the shadow of the form is standing next to me, overlooking the view alongside me.

I imagine that I could fall into the water of the lake and fade in, since my dress matches the liquid so exactly. No one would ever see me. No one would sense my drowning body. I would disappear into the depths of my water, just like my Anakin disappeared into the fire ten years before. Then, ten years from today, I will be resurrected too, and my shadow will stand next to my resurrected husband's shadow, and we will be here together until the end of time.

My dramatic, metaphorical musings are going to be the death of me.

_I **will** be strong for them._

"Well," I say, my voice light in contrast to the heavy scene. "I assume you're not here to rent the lodge out for the weekend."

* * *

TBC…

* * *

Whew! That's 11 pages in Microsoft Word, and since the longest chapter so far has only been six pages, that makes this the single longest post of the story so far. 

I really hope you all enjoyed this one. Besides investing the entire afternoon into it, I think I've listened to "Across the Stars", "Anakin's Dream", and "Luke and Leia" about 50 times each just today to keep me focused completely in the Skywalker mood for hours. I hope it was worth it!

My main thing is that I wanted to get the characterization of Padmé down right. She is my favorite character in the saga, and I just have to due her justice every time I write about her.

I very eagerly anticipate reading ya'lls opinions!

I'm going to **email** my replies to the reviews of the last chapter, and to the next chapter. I think this will be the standard from here till the end. Thank you all for such kind remarks!

**PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT**


	9. Echoed Reunion

I know. I can't believe it either-- I'm back!

Well, after Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Rita, dozens of moves, no computers, no internet connections, three American states, grumpy relatives, F.E.M.A., migranes, and finally settling down...and a new hatred and respect for Mother Nature... I'm back. :-) I am so very sorry for the delay.

I missed you guys.

_**Happy New Year!"No flood sticks in 2006!"**__**

* * *

**_

_**A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm**_

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Echoed Reunion**

"Well, I assume you're not here to rent the lodge out for the weekend."

He had loved her once for her cleverness and wit. Her tone had the perfect blend of sarcasm and sincerity. Despite himself, the corners of his lips tugged upwards just a little. "Well, the thought had crossed my mind once or twice."

A million thoughts were running rapidly through her head, but her voice sounded calm and tranquil as she continued, "It's the perfect season for it. Naboo is gorgeous this time of year."

"Naboo is always lush and beautiful... as are its native occupants."

She stiffened slightly, understanding his double meaning. "She's aged. Naboo isn't what it once was."

"If anything, I'm sure she has only grown more beautiful over the years." Vader's voice was slower and lower than usual. "Naboo has that wonder."

Now she was a still as a statue. "She has seen war, destruction, pain, and time. She is not as she once was."

Vader knew they weren't completely talking about Naboo anymore. "Chit chat can only go on for so long, Amidala. Sooner or later you are going to have to turn around and look at me."

"I'm quite a capable human being. I've fought in wars, I've fought politicians, I've fought monsters-- I've even fought monstrous politicians." He could clearly hear the bitterness in her tone. "With all of that in mind, I'm sure I can handle carrying on a conversation with my back to someone only a few yards away."

"But I can't handle it."

"Don't pretend to have a weak side. I've heard about your _excursions_ across the galaxy. Oh, yes, even I watch the HoloNet. I'm still hoping for the day when I finally hear good news in the media."

"And tell me, Amidala--" Padmé flinched slightly. He was doing what Anakin used to do-- call her by her much more formal name instead of his favored and loved name. He used to do it when he wanted to distance himself from her even verbally, because his emotions were too fiery and abnormal to call her by the name he loved so much and was so vulnerable too. It happened during the worst of arguments, or when he was being extremely serious during an important conversation_. Apparently, old habits die hard... or maybe just old lives die hard?_ He continued, "What would be your definition of good news?"

"The fall of this evil Empire." She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

It had been so long since anyone had blatantly denounced the regime so directly to him. The bluntness of her statement and its unbreakable tone _almost _shook him.

"Ah, yes, well, you always did harbor passionate views with the governments you were under. Either something was wrong with it here, or something was wrong with it there--"

"This entire masquerade, this farce of a government-- the whole thing is wrong! It's tyranny!"

"The government is a well-operated machine--" _Like me. _"--and we are feared and respected."

"Fear is not respect. You are loathed, and it's only a matter of time."

Now he was curious. "Only a matter of time?"

Padmé stood straighter and her eyes narrowed, although he couldn't seem them. "People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people. The mob is the most powerful thing in politics; they are the true," she smirked, "_force_."

"I didn't travel all the way over here to bicker with you about politics."

"Really? And you didn't know that the subject of this atrocious empire of yours would eventually come up?" She panted, "Well, you've certainly--"

"Naboo _is _especially breath-taking this time of year, isn't it?"

"As if that machine called your body could manage to skip an inhalation, much less appreciate a thing like beauty."

That stopped him, and he observed as her stone face immediately froze, melted, and showed a mixture of surprise and shame. Her hand flew to her mouth, as if to stop the words that had already passed from her lips. He, on the other hand, was used to hearing insults flung at him; however, they were usually followed by the sound of breaking necks, blasterfire, burning buildings, or the ignition of a red lightsaber. Even so, he only stood there, watching her from the mask of his black observation tower. Somehow, hearing Padmé insult him touched him somewhere that stopped any thoughts or reactions of violence... it seemed to have the opposite effect. It almost... _hurt_.

Padmé was still slightly flustered with herself. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mock you. I-I don't know what came over me, insulting you like that."

Vader stood taller, recognizing the terrain of this topic. "I do."

She thought she heard the unmistakable hint of pride in his voice. "Yes... and that's what scares me," she whispered.

"Fear can be a powerful thing, Amidala."

She forced a fake laugh. "Apparently so can disillusion."

He let that pass, grudgingly. He decided to change the subject to something that held more interest to him than her protests to his unique lifestyle. "You said you watch the HoloNet from time to time. That surprises me. You used to absolute hate watching it." He noted how her posture seemed to shift at his unexpected words.

"Well, you... you've forgotten why I hated watching it, then."

_There isn't a thing I have forgotten about her over all these years. What could she be talking about?_

"I was terrified of one day seeing the headline of my husband's death flash before my eyes. It was the only way of knowing if, if you were dead, or if you were still alive." She shook her head. "Wretched thing..." she whispered.

The wind blew around them, carrying fallen leaves behind, beside, and between them. She watched, not really watching, the waters ripple and collide with the sand and rocks on the beach below. He watched her.

"Turn around, Padmé."

Vader wasn't sure if she had heard him or not, but then she sighed deeply and began a slow turn. Brown pools of struggling innocence met with unforgiving black-red lens.

Her eyes went wide. "Ani?" she whispered in disbelief, so softly that he didn't hear it. "You've, well," she searched for words to fill the silent seconds. "You've changed. You've grown... taller." After she said that, she realized how it was only his black suit that made him more vertical than before. He was... _built_... to be taller. He was _constructed _to intimidate. She had seen his image before on the Holonet, however rarely, but he looked much more gigantic in person. She understood the implied description of him as being frightening and daunting... but she only saw him as more pitiful. _Oh, Ani..._

Vader certainly saw and recognized her reaction to him, but it was temporarily pushed to the back of his mind when he finally saw her face again after so many lonely years. She looked older, yet the time had only enhanced her beauty. The hard times had morphed her face into a mirror of wisdom and maturity. The tough times themselves were evident in her eyes, her face, and her stance, but it was a testament to her strength that she had survived them. He thought, in reluctance and amazement, _Anakin would have fallen in love with her all over again right here... _"So have you, but... you've grown more beautiful."

The wind blew once again, making music with a masked composition of harps and soft violins. It was laced with leaves, memories, and air. A particular memory that actually was not native to this planet, but rather to another far away city planet, seemed to rush the loudest through the space. It sang of a reunion of people that echoed the current moments. It rang of a blossoming relationship, of fated beings once again meeting after a decade apart.

_He had changed so much after ten years then. He's changed just as much now... but yet, he hasn't. _Something appeared in Padmé's eyes that hadn't been there in many years. "Oh, you'll always be that man I married here on Naboo."

And with her breathy words, the moment passed. The text of her tongue was the key that unleashed the shame, embarrassment, and anger, all of which had been kept under the surface until this moment. "Grotesque and beauty are words that don't fit together in the same sentence," he growled, and then he paused briefly. "You and I do not belong on the same landscape together."

She studied him. "Yet here we are," the wife replied softly.

He took a small step towards her, watching the wind blow her chestnut locks across her face. "Yet here we are," he repeated. After a long, emotional moment, he continued, "I wish you would have worn the scarf."

Padmé gazed at him sadly, feeling pressure behind her eyes and on her weary, beating heart. She managed to stop her voice from breaking as she replied with a heavy sigh, "So do I."

"I shouldn't have come."

"I know..."

"I had to see you."

"I know..."

"Padmé..."

"Anakin--"

"NO!" His loud, raging voice and jerky movements caused her to flinch and move backwards in surprise. His dark emotions swirled inside of him as he felt fury over his loss of control and her effect on him. "Sentimentality is for the _weak_."

She raised an eyebrow, not buying his tough attitude, even as she loathed it. "What an interesting holiday card greeting, Master Vader. It's funny how I remember _you _being the hopeless romantic one."

"Amidala--"

"You were much better at the verbal expressions than I was. I did better with the physical things. You wrote the love poems--"

"Amidala--"

"--but burned the pudding and completely caught the cake on fire. I brought you the gifts that touched your heart and made us both cry--"

"_Amidala!_ I--"

"--but I composed the worst attempts at poetry ever known. Thank you for putting up with them."

"AMIDALA-"

"Yet," and her face softened with thought and emotion, "...you... you did give me one gift that I treasured above all things ever given to me." He froze, stilled by her sudden change in demeanor. Her new energy morphed him into silence. Although she seemed to glow in an angelic radiance, she shown of a quiet, painful sadness, and he gazed at her with wide eyes of vulnerability.

"A necklace... a snippet of japor." Her eyes glazed over a little. "I don't know where it is anymore." She seemed to shrink inside herself, and it scared him. "I've lost my treasure."

"I lost mine ten years ago. I'm not sure if I've found it again." They both stood there, in a thoughtful space of time only filled by the sound of the trees' movements. Each occasionally stole looks at the other, though never at the same time.

Vader was the first to break the silence. "I went looking for you."

"What?"

"When you first disappeared. I was intent on tearing this galaxy apart--and I almost did-- until I found you."

She looked at the ground, and then up at him. "I figured as much."

"My search led me back to Naboo countless times, until I finally cornered every even semi-important Nubian politician, from all the town governors to the queen herself, in the palace for the ultimate questioning."

"Every Nubian politician? What a sight," she mused, her eyes lighting somewhat as she looked into some far off place. "My old comrades..."

"They were stubbornly and stupidly united behind you," he growled.

Padmé ventured to sit on a nearby bench which was underneath one of the trees. "My old friends... oh, what a _sight _they must have been. The last stand of the true Nubian political force, gathered together in the royal palace itself. I'm actually sorry I missed it."

"They told me you were dead. Malnutrition and broken heart."

Her eyes darted to him. Below, she was trying not to imagine the kind of immeasurable pain she would have suffered if someone had told her that the love of her life had died liked that. _My life would have ended the moment the teller had spoken. _On the surface, she offered a half-hearted and mild shrug, but with compassionate eyes filled with a new understanding for Darth Vader. "It obviously worked. I wasn't on Naboo at the time. I was far, far away from my home." _My home was with you._

"I couldn't feel you on Naboo," Vader's voice seemed slightly more desperate and strong as he relived those excruciatingly painful memories. "I couldn't feel you anywhere. _Anywhere_!"

"I had learned a few tricks."

Vader turned and faced the south wall, his fists clenched. "I curse those tricks, and whoever taught them to you!"

"Oh, I think you have a pretty good idea who taught me, my lord."

He was pacing now, stomping back and forth across the structure with long strides and brisk turns. "I couldn't sense you, I was out of my mind! Going mad!" Padmé watched him intently from her bench beneath the tree. "That's why I didn't hesitate long when they told me you had died-- when Yomané--"

"Oh." He stopped and looked at her. "Yomané, oh, my dear friend. She was so young, but so brave." Padmé dropped her eyes. "I haven't spoken to her in so long, like so many others. I hope she's alright and happy." She smiled slightly, remembering the companion who she had laughed with, joked with, debated with, and watched grow. "I always thought that she would make a wonderful future queen one day. We were good friends, despite the differences in our ages. She's Dorme's little sister. She was such a good friend to me..."

"I broke her neck."

Padmé's eyes turned to ice as her face paled quickly. She didn't believe what she had just heard. She croaked, "What?"

"The sound of the snap was so loud that it echoed throughout the entire throne room. I slaughtered all of them."

Padmé thought she was going to be sick. "You... you...ah, _oh gods_..." Padmé wiped the perspiration from her forehead and from her checks. She stood up, overwhelmed by her rapid emotions. She looked every where but at him, trying not to comprehend what he was telling her. _Tha-that's why there were suddenly so many Imperials operating Naboo... oh, no... **no**...I thought they had only been forced to resign from office! Ani, my Ani... _Suddenly, her eyes, flashing red hot like lava, turned on him. "Did you slaughter them, then, Vader? Did you slaughter them like animals? Did you slaughtered them like the Tuskens that killed your mother!"

"No," Vader replied, monotone. He was mesmerized by her fresh tears. Padmé was watching him with wild eyes. "Worse."

"_How could y_--"

"I made them suffer. I wasn't in this limiting suit yet. I was rich in the dark side. My body was whole. My rage was infinite."

"Oh, _gods_, Anakin!" She ignored his shouts of protest of that name. She raged on, tormented by the brutal images her imagination was flashing before her eyes. "I-I should have taken that poison upstairs!"

Behind his mask, Vader frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Is this the life that you wanted? Is this the life that you wanted for us?" She was staggering around the grounds, practically blinded by her tears and her despair. He followed her relentlessly, disturbed by seeing her so incredibly shaken. "You hunting me down, you in that black case, me wasting away in solitude!" He resisted any urges to reach out to her, though she wouldn't have allowed him to even if he tried. Suddenly, she turned on him again and began to march in his direction. Her voice was low and threatening as she questioned hotly, "You answer me honestly, if only for the one time in your Sith psychopathic history: did you ever touch my family in any way from the moment I disappeared ten years ago till today? DID YOU!"

He knew he was treading on very dangerous ground, but he couldn't stop himself when he coyly asked, "Define 'ever touch' them."

If possible, Padmé looked even more infuriated. She stomped right up to Vader's horrendous mask unflinchingly and demanded, "Anything! Anything over the Holovid! Anything face to face? If you so much as trailed their pets I want to know about it! Any contact whatsoever!"

Vader managed to get the question quickly, "Are you admitting that you have had connections with your family during your hiding?"

Padmé lashed back, "Yes, of course, because I couldn't possibly stay away from them. _Now answer the question!_"

"But you could stay away from me!"

He was amazed that a woman so filled presently with fiery emotions could still look so pale. The only color on her face were the flames in her eyes. "You were no longer the man I married! _Answer the question, Vader!_"

"I almost died when I thought I'd lost you, and YES! I did corner your family! I met with them this very morning after you left their house in such a hurry to escape your favorite empire. I saw your mother, your father, your sister, your brother-in-law, and your grown-up nieces. _And they saw me!_"

Padmé's entire face changed into something more akin to fear, and she even forgot to breathe for several seconds until her screaming lungs reminded her of her need for air. Her voice was lower, quieter, but even more deadly as she threatened, "Define 'met with them'."

Vader studied her, and gave her the truth about his emotional reunion with her-- _his_-- family that morning. "You are," he breathed heavily, "your mother's daughter, Padmé. They may be a little shaken up, but only by shock, not by physical harm. You have a very stubborn family, Padmé... they are people who are not, um, easily persuaded... but they were not harmed."

Padmé's shoulder's sagged with relief. Her head fell to her chest and her breathing slowed, interrupted occasionally by soft sobs. He only watched her, transfixed. There was something so sad and pitiful yet so strong and graceful about Padmé's crying.

"Thank you."

It was meek, it was unexpected, and it was barely said, but Vader heard it. Thank You. Gratitude. Padmé was thanking him for saving her family from his usual wrath. He didn't have any idea what to say...except for...

"You're welcome."

He didn't even notice he was reaching out a hand to touch her until it was only millimeters away from her curly hair. He immediately jerked it back in revulsion of himself. Thankfully, Padmé witnessed none of it, because her focus was still to the ground as she finally brushed tears from her porcelain face. It was a while before she resumed walking and led herself back to the railing of the balcony, but when she did, Vader was thankful for the distance.

His wife stood there watching the glistening water below her. They had swam in that lake hundreds of times before he had constructed his knew empire. Wait... why did he feel this essence of regret...?

He shook himself mentally and cursed what this environment was doing to him, but he was much more aghast when Padmé finally spoke.

"You know... I could fling myself over this balcony right now and end my life."

He took a step closer to her immediately. "I'd stop you before you were a foot off the ground."

She kept her eyes out over the water. "Yes, well, let's suppose that you didn't get to me in time, and I landed in the water far below." Her voice was eerily wistful as she pictured her words taking place. "I allow myself to begin to drown."

"I would go in after you, of course."

"Really? Quite the hero are we today, hmmm? And I suppose you would then pull me to shore from the depths and begin to perform mouth-to-mouth respiration?"

Without thinking, he quickly replied, "I'm a good swimmer!" She stopped and turned very slowly to look back at him, a wry smile on her lips as she pointedly looked him up and down. She didn't need to say anything to convey all the smart statements that she wanted to.

"You would probably sink faster than I would," she turned back to the watery landscape before her, "and there we would be in eternal rest. I like that. Anakin was killed by fire, and Vader was killed by water." She sighed. "Hmmm, perhaps I'm not too bad at the poetry thing after all."

Vader didn't know what to say to that. He _did _know that he didn't dream of an angel for ten years who had saved him from his desert home planet, court her, win her over, marry her, love her deeply and intimately, lose her to fate and lies, and then miraculously get her back again only to watch herself hop off their balcony to death a few feet away from him. However, even as he pondered the strangeness of Padmé's behavior, he realized in a panic that Padmé was leaning herself farther and farther over the balcony rail. Her heels, previously hidden by the layers of her dress and train, were now obviously inches off the ground as she leaned closer and closer towards doom.

"NO!" He crossed the space between them in two long strides and firmly wrapped his arms around her waist, stopping her before she was a foot off the ground. His bewildered mind clung to her in angst while his imagination tormented him with 'what could have been if' images. But, before he even had a chance to pull her back to a straighter position, she shocked him by immediately pulling her upper body backwards softly against him. She even rested her head, eyes closed, upon his right shoulder. She looked altogether peaceful as she laid across his chest plate as if it were a lovely cushion.

"I just wanted this," she murmured. "I just wanted to feel the arms of a man who once called me "love" around me again, even if I had to trick him to do it." He eyes remained closed. "I just want to pretend, if even for a moment or two-- preferably two."

Vader stood there, shocked. His arms were wrapped around the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, a smile gradually dancing upon her swollen lips, as she rested contently in the embrace of a Dark Lord of the Sith. He had absolutely no idea what to do. In years past, Padmé was the only one able to off-balance and truly take Anakin by surprise, both verbally and in his reactions. Apparently, she had not lost this gift when her husband had morphed into something else.

"Yes..." she breathed. "I am your wife, and you are my husband. We are indestructible together." She cradled her head more comfortably on his chest, and turned a little more so as to hug him slightly. "I am your Padmé..."

"...My Padmé..." the soft, deep voice behind her agreed, as if in a trance.

Her smile grew wider. "Yes, my love... and you are my, Ani."

As abruptly as it had been there, her support was gone. Empty space occupied the area behind Padmé's back. Her quick reactions saved her from falling backwards, and as soon as she was composed she spun around to face her shadow of a husband.

"What's wrong?" she asked timidly, without anger or fear.

Vader was about ten feet away from her, pacing once again. "My empire is of control, organization, power. I know it! I am familiar with it!"

Padmé began to soothe, "Oh, darling, is that it? Anakin, you were once familiar with these explorations of love and intimacy before, and--"

"_I am not Anakin Skywalker!_" The volume of his yell shook the surrounding birds from the trees, and they flew away in a flurry of dark colors, startled. The amplitude of their departure added to the noise of the argument. "And--" Vader's fists were clenched once again, "And you, _you are not Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker!'_

A deep frown creased her face. "Now you are just being ridiculous."

"No! You are Anaka Skyler. You have forsaken your previous identity like I have forsaken mine. You, likewise, hold no association with it, like I hold no association to you!"

Padmé would not raise her voice. "It is true... I am married to a ghost. Ghosts do not speak, do not walk, and do not hold others." Her doe brown eyes blazed with subdued emotions. "But, sometimes, you can simply _feel _their presence, and you know that they are there. Listen, this has been a very trying day, and it hasn't even passed yet. The drama of this conversation has had so many ups and downs that I feel like I'm watching a HoloSoapOpera, and I could use a media commercial." She straightened, applied her 'political face', and asked like a posed lady, "Lord "Drama-Inducing" Vader, Dark Lord of the Insane Sith, would you care for any refreshments?"

Vader stared her down. "No hostess in the political courts on Coruscant could ever show half as much disrespect to the highest leader of their empire than you, Senator Amidala."

Padmé shot back, instantly furious, "I am no senator! I don't know of any democracy to serve! If I am a diplomatic leader in any government, it is in the memories of the past Republic. I will have no part in your war games, Darth Vader."

"I am the leading official of this galaxy--"

"That is the second time you have said that, and I'm trying to figure out why. I thought you served your emperor of your _grand _empire!"

"My master freed me. He's taught me the ways of the dark side like no one else can. I'll admit that I owe him some allegiance."

"Your _master **freed **_you? That doesn't make any sense. You traded in one master for another. The differences between them are that one was just, the other evil; that one was your friend, and the other is your puppeteer."

"A friend? Kenobi hid you from me, taught you to block out your own husband who was going mad with misery!"

"Yes, don't you see? You just said it yourself, you were 'going mad'!

"End the chit chat, Padmé!"

Now she was truly taken aback. _What was he talking about? _"What? The meaningless, reintroduction conversation ended a long time ago. We've been arguing and reminiscing for over half an hour! This is not what I would call chit chat!"

"You've been trying to keep me off the subject ever since I got here!"

"What are you talking about, Anakin!"

"Where is the _child_, Padmé! The child that your _comrades _in the palace claimed to have _died _along with _you_!_ OUR CHILD!_"

Fear blanketed her body and heart, and Padmé froze. Never, ever in her life had she been in a situation like this before, and her basin of vulnerability began to spill. How, _how _could she tell her estranged-dead-but-living husband about his doomed, beautiful, breathing offspring? It was a secret _never _meant to be told, especially to him. But how could she stand there, and block his questions forever? Out. OUT. She needed to get away, to escape. Abruptly, the idea came upon her to try a tactic she had never used before. The strong, brave, confronting Padmé Amidala used to look down upon her female counterparts whenever they did this. But this time, for her, it worked. Ironically, it was more real than a tool.

She fainted.

* * *

TBC……… 


	10. Sonic Windows

Woah! Thank you for such wonderful reviews! I'm very flattered, truly. :-) _-writer disperses hugs-_

Okay, this is _really_ quick, especially for me. To be updating a 12-page chapter with a 9-page chapter only about two days later? _-jaws drop in shock-_ But, hey, whose complaining:-) Yay A/P/V stories!

**UPDATE AFTER INTIAL POST:** Giving thanks when thanks are due: A heartfelt "thank you" to JazzSkywalker, who was kind enough to be a last minute advisor for me on a tricky part in the chapter so that I could go back and improve it. Thanks are certainly due to this person who was able to un-confuse the writer when the writer was confused about her own chapter! Thanks Jazz!

Reviews are always appreciated... I hope you enjoy...

* * *

_**A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm**_

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Sonic-windows**

_A fortunate characteristic about sonic-windows was their ability to eliminate any outside noise from getting in. They dutifully proved a flawless sound-proof barrier between the deafening Coruscant traffic lanes and the cozy arenas of citizens' apartments that towered above the planet. The buildings could be surrounded by boisterous travel on all sides, but no audible proof existed if the sonic-windows were in place. It was especially nice to have when the Senator of Naboo had important meetings in her elegant living room, for no sound got **out** of the apartment as well. There was no product available that could penetrate the material to listen in on conversations held in the sitting rooms, making it, of course, standard for all politicians' residences and offices. Very nicely, it also added to the illusion that the inhabitants were the only people in the world. _

_A very handsome, though perhaps not very innocent, young man was presently lying on the golden sofa situated in the living room with his wife. They were snuggled up against the right arm of the rather comfortable couch. The young woman with an old soul had positioned herself cradled in his secure arms, her lower torso strung over his lap as she looked up at him. Her head was nestled on the arm of the sofa, and her chocolate curls spilled over her lover's shoulder lazily._

_The conversation was light and playful, and the late-morning sunshine basked their faces in a heavenly and happy glow._

"_Admit it, Anakin. You worship that star fighter. If that thing was a woman you would marry her instead of me. Good luck with the wedding—probably couldn't get through the vows! You can't live without that thing and the freedom of flying through space." Padmé knew her husband very well, and she delighted in that fact._

_He broke into a wider smile. "Are you implying that I'm **needy?**"_

_Padmé only giggled mischievously in reply._

"_You are much more fun to lay with on a couch than a star fighter, my dear."_

_Padmé pretended to cheer in triumph. "Finally! The answer to the question that I have pondered all my life: am I more fun to lie with than a star fighter? Thank you, Anakin, for answering my life's dilemma." Even as he gave her a mock bow, well, as much as he could while sitting down with her trapping him under her petite body at the waist, her smile faded somewhat as she remembered something she'd rather forget. "Anakin, soon… I have a meeting."_

"_Cancel it."_

"_Ani…"_

"_Cancel it. You know you want to."_

"_I can't. I have to put on this very elaborate," she waved her hands theatrically, "show to convince the Landscape Committee about upgrading those conditions on Re'Ker. Some politicians need so much persuasion."_

_Anakin's eyes grew darker. "I can help you put on a show."_

"_Ani…" she warned, tilting her head knowingly. The sparkle in her eyes grew brighter._

"_It'll be quiet an **elaborate** show, I assure you. One those uptight dignitaries would certainly not forget."_

_Padmé was turning pink. "Anakin!" She swatted at him. He caught her hand and kissed it, then proceeded to interlock his fingers with hers. He very slowly, very smoothly began to bend her hand backwards at the wrist, staying well within the pain-free realm. He raised an eye brow to accompany his ministrations. _

"_Maybe it'll even be flexible. Where did that table that used to be in here get moved to?"_

"_**Anakin Skywalker!**" Surprised, and blushing so hard that her face was now bright red, Padmé tried to shuffle her bodyweight in an attempt to flee Anakin's clutches. But his hold on her remained firm, yet gentle._

"_Oh, we'll have none of that, My Lady. No escape for you," he purred._

_She settled back into his embrace, her cheeks still warm. "You're such a tease, Mister Skywalker."_

_He chuckled lightly before questioning, "Now what made you think that I was teasing? I was completely serious."_

"_Oh, sure." She rolled her eyes, smiling. "And I thought **I** was the serious one."_

"_You are. It's rubbing off on me. It's contagious."_

_Padmé grinned, followed by purposely coughing lightly in his direction. He awarded her with a fake frown, followed by pretending to be progressively and rapidly sicker and sicker as he caught 'Padmé's-contagious-seriousness-disease'. Padmé leaned up heroically to kiss him, pretending to breathe new life into the suddenly healthy Jedi._

"_Ahh," he sighed, letting his head drop back onto the cushions supporting him. "The kiss of life." He looked down to her beaming face, dropping the theatrical act. "Quite a **show**, huh?"_

_Padmé laughed as she raised her hand to brush the back it across Anakin's cheek. "Don't talk about shows. I can't even imagine what the faces would look like on those stiff diplomats." Anakin was about to murmur that they could still find out **exactly** what her collogues would think of it, first hand, before she continued, swooning, "That would probably make a crack or two in their concrete political faces!"_

"_Ah-ha!" Anakin exclaimed gleefully. "So you admit that they are stubborn, self-righteous, stiffy, boring, and all around unpleasant to be around!" He raised his arms into the air, lifted his victorious face, and shouted to the ceiling, "At last, she admits what I have known all along!" _

_Padmé shifted herself in his lap, a look of mild indignation on her face. "You got all of those descriptions from two sentences of mine? And I have never said that politicians make the most festive and entertaining company—"_

"—_No, I hold that title."_

"—_But the work isn't about interesting social meetings. It's about the people **without** the fancy ruffles, pleats, and other silly adornments, and the service to those the people. That's what it's all about in the end."_

_Anakin's tone sobered slightly as he dropped his arms. "I'm glad you feel that way, Padmé, but you're one of the few with that ideal. Other politicians aren't so righteous."_

_Padmé stroked his cheek and neck lovingly. "Yes, but politics has always been like that, ever since the institution of politics was established, I assume. It is just a part of the business. It always has been, and always will be."_

_Anakin's eyes seemed to look into another, far off place. "It can't have always been like this. Times are getting bad… really bad." He wanted to add, 'You don't see what I see on the front lines,' but she was already distressed enough by the fact that he was always in danger while fighting. There was no need to add to her nightmares._

_Padmé sighed with a sense of finality. "Which is all the more reason for me to start getting ready for that meeting. Genuine public service is important, especially now."_

_Anakin's playful yet intent demeanor returned. With a dazzling smile, he countered, "**I'm** important. Come on, you can't expect me to believe that you want to get all dressed up in those constricting, breath-taking—literally—gowns and stab your head with pins in some painful hairstyle that will leave your head sore all night."_

_**You'd rather be with me.** The thought was sent to her and received, but she ignored it and the tendrils that it sent down her spine._

_Padmé batted her eye thick lashes seductively. "Girls play dress up all the time."_

"_You aren't a girl."_

_A sly grin spread life wildfire over Padmé's face. "And how would you know?"_

_Anakin leaned down towards her alluring lips. "A husband always knows." He captured her in a smoldering kiss, which didn't leave his wife blushing with naiveté this time._

"_Besides," Padmé purred once their kiss had ended. "Gowns? Pins? Who said anything about those? I thought I would wear your favorite outfit of mine to the assembly."_

_Anakin's crooked smile appeared. "You mean the one where you aren't wearing anything?"_

"_Mmmm-hmmm."_

"_I'm afraid I can't allow that, Senator. What would your noble, dignified collogues think?"_

"_They'd think I'd been influenced by you. What would my darling husband think?"_

"_I think he would be very jealous."_

_Padmé laughed as he buried his face and, most importantly, his lips into her shoulder and neck. "I don't know… some of those politicians are very alluring."_

_Anakin snorted loudly from her shoulder. The muffled noise was added to by the sound of Padmé's giggle, for his vocal reaction and subsequent vibrations on her skin happened to cause a tickling effect in a sensitive spot._

"_They couldn't possibly be half as much fun to wake up to as me."_

"_That Orn Free Taa has caught my eye a few times," Padmé replied, teasingly._

_Anakin pictured the five-hundred pound obnoxious blue Twi'lek and grimaced. "If he's actually your type, this marriage is going to have some serious issues."_

_Padmé grinned. "Nah… I actually like the tall, blonde kinds. The men who come from desert planets—preferably Tatooine— who are Jedi Knights. They must be dashingly handsome, funny… I suppose a tad bit on the rebellious side, unfortunately," Anakin made another undistinguishable sound, "and have blue eyes that can pierce my very soul."_

_Anakin sat up suddenly, with a confused frown so sincere he could have been an actor in another life. "You know what, Padmé? I don't know a single being in this whole universe that fits any of that description."_

_Padmé raised an eye brow, her smile growing. "Anyone?"  
_

_Anakin's mask broke a little. "Well, maybe I do know someone who is dashingly handsome. And, as a matter of fact, he has been told on several occasions, by this very beautiful woman that he's absolutely madly in love with, that he has these blue eyes that pierce her very soul."_

_Padmé gasped very dramatically. "Really?"_

"_Yep. But, unfortunately for you, he's very, very taken."_

_Padmé's face shifted into a pout. "Oh, that's too bad."_

"_I know," he purred again._

"_I guess I'm stuck with you then, Skywalker. What ever shall we do with ourselves?"_

_Anakin's eyes shimmered. **She knew this was coming.** "Oh, I have a very, very pretty good idea, Senator." He raised his arm to encircle her more. _

"_Anakin! My meeting!"_

_His arm flopped to his side, dejected. "My wife!"_

_Padmé pouted sincerely. "I've already delayed for too long."_

_But Anakin was relentless. "Padmé, love, how often do I get a break away from the war? How often am I able to see you?"_

_Padmé's eyes instantly dimmed, and he regretted the look of remorse on her perfect face, as he saw himself as the source. She whispered, "Not often enough."_

_Now it was Anakin's turn to caress as he ran the tips of his fingers across her bare skin._

"'_The Hero With No Fear'… that's what they call me. What a joke." He looked deeply into her eyes, easily seeing past what was on the surface. "If they only knew how much I have to lose. Then, they'd know why I feel so much fear."_

_**But they can't know… it would destroy our lives.**_

_The thought wasn't said in only one mind or the other. It was echoed in both simultaneously. _

"_I like you," he announced, his eyes twinkling more fantastically than the jewels she sometimes wore.  
_

_This resulted in a new giggle from Padmé. "You like me? **Only** like me?"_

_Anakin cupped her face in his trembling hand. "I suppose I do…. even with all of your hair pins and pretty dress-up costumes." The expressive eyes that she looked into betrayed his attempt at a playful behavior. She saw through to his boiling emotions and into the infinite depth of his love— he was barely containing it— and the moment grew more solemn and soulful for her as well. Only a final trace of self-control was keeping him from gathering her up in his arms, not that she would have refused at all. _

_But Anakin didn't want to frighten her with this immeasurable depth of his devotion to her. It scared even him sometimes. He contented to cup her face gently in both of his shaking hands and gaze into her adoring eyes. His voice was heavy and thick with unrepressed emotion. "You are the center of my universe."_

_With a shaky sigh, she replied, "I missed my husband." Her voice was as soft as a pillow._

"_I missed my wife."_

_The simple words conveyed more poignantly and with more weight than any "I love you" could have at that moment._

Shadows.

"_Ani..."_

The soothing darkness that swirled around her mind was broken randomly by painful stabs of white that blinded her, and she tried to run desperately from them. She couldn't move. The light penetrated more, and she wrestled with it in vain. It was as if someone was slashing through the blanket of black that covered her body and mind. The bright white pricks made her yearn even more to stay in her safe dream, to be back in that moment, so many years ago. The blackness was keeping her in her fantasy. The white was trying to kidnap her from it. Padmé anxiously tried to mentally duck under her black blanket once again, like a child trying to escape her nightmares. For Padmé, her nightmare existed when she was awake, when there was no Anakin. Back in the dark, where she could pretend, he was never gone.

The white light tugged more on the blanket that shielded Padmé from reality. C_ome to me, Padmé…_

_NO!_

His caring face was fading, replaced by more hated black. The more she tried to search through the darkness for him, the more achingly painful the white lights became as she regained more consciousness.

"_Ani..."_

Her urgent repetition followed. She thought she felt something… someone… they were holding her hand tenderly. This wasn't part of her memory. This was the present, the reality.

_NO!_

"I'll…"

She recognized the audible sound of her own voice, though she wasn't sure what she was saying. _Am I on a bed?_ _A couch?_ _Does it matter? _She just wanted to stay in the memory she was loosing more and more perception of with every second. Bits and pieces of that lovely afternoon fleetingly stayed with her, while others flew away as the darkness dispersed.

"I'll… I'll cancel the meeting." _Please let me stay in this memory forever. Let me relive this again and again._

"I'll cancel the… meeting," she sighed, relieved and happy that she would now spend the afternoon with her desirable and desiring husband. She saw the last fragments of the memory—his pleased, loving, satisfied smile when she had given in at last—as she finally came almost completely into consciousness.

"Talk to me, Padmé."

The low voice sounded strangely mechanical and far away. It was both familial and foreign all at the same time. She didn't know if she could trust it.

"Ani…"

"I'm here. You fell when you fainted…" she wasn't listening. "Padmé? Padmé, can you hear me?"

Tears were pushing at the corners of Padmé's eyes. She just wanted to go back, go back to when she was looking up into the adoring face of her beloved as she was enveloped in his embrace. It had felt _so_ real, even as real as it had been at one time. Her mind was not in a logical place where she could realize that she was reliving a treasured memory, and she was merely clinging to the past. It had been years that had felt longer than they had actually been since she had snuggled with her husband in her Coruscant apartment.

_Talk to me, Padmé._

The intruding voice had not received an invitation to enter her sorrowful mind, and its presence was not wanted. _It's Vader, _her mind warned her.

_I just want to go back to my memories… please!_

Though less pressing, the voice was still there, attempting yet again.

_Talk to me._

"I'll talk to… to you… ah…. about anything. Anything that you want… later… just please," her head rolled on the pillow beneath her. "Just please let me… let me go back now…" She refused to open her eyes. There was perspiration on her neck. "My memories," she whined.

Several lengthy moments later, the white shards finally disappeared at once, and Padmé was once again laced with comforting black. She breathed out long and slow as she nestled back into her loved and loathed abyss.

But the black, gloved hand never left her side, and it continued its tender hold as his automatic breathing continued. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. _

She found herself melting into a tranquil park in the country. The shifting colors were of abnormal pastels; the landscape was decorated in shades of pink, orange, purple, and blue. It was as if everything was cast into the glow of a stilled sunset, yet the sun was shining brightly overhead. A cool breeze ruffled Padmé's airy white dress. The surrounding mountains and the nearby trees that flowed silently in the wind were not of Naboo, nor of any other planet that she recognized.

The realization came quickly and harshly.

This wasn't a memory. This was a daydream. And as she saw the vision of her approaching company, it frightened her how much she wanted it, and it terrified her how much she didn't.

But the rules of consciousness ignored her and vanished as the bright image of a beautiful little toddler came tumbling gleefully into her arms. The sight of brown, bouncy curls and the angelic sound of blissful, innocent laughter brought joyful tears to Padmé's eyes, which were now shut tightly in emotion. She squeezed her little girl in the hug, her hand gently rubbing the child's back in random patterns. A soft lullaby sang through the trees, and Padmé forgot that this was only a dream in every sense of the word. With heavy mother's love, she sighed aloud in both her dream and in reality, "_Leia…_"

The tender grip on her hand tightened its hold, and grew still.

* * *

TBC... 

I just had to write that chapter. I know it doesn't necessarily move the story taking place on the Lake Retreat forward by leaps and bounds... _but I just had to write it!_ Forgive me? Please? _-writer gives puppy dog eyes-_

Besides... you may have noticed that we... or, at least, _Vader_... got started getting somewhere with this chapter. :-)


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